RECOLLECTIONS 

OF   f    f    f    f    f  7 

ANOLDMSICIAN 

BY—  THOMAS— RYAN 


'LIBRARY 

UNIveRSITYOF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


THOMAS  RYAN. 


BY 
THOMAS    RYAN 

OF   THE    MENDELSSOHN    QUINTETTE    CLUB 
BOSTON 


NEW  YORK 

Copyright  by 

E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 

31   WEST  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET 
1899 


DEDICATION 

MY  DEAR  MR.  BROWN: 

Old  friendship  alone  would  warrant  me  in  asking  you 
to  stand  godfather  to  this  collection  of  musical  memories, 
yet  the  appropriateness  of  dedicating  it  to  you  is  self- 
evident,  while  it  gives  me  great  personal  satisfaction. 

Most  of  us,  or  the  best  of  us,  may  have  done  fairly  well 
as  workers  in  Boston's  musical  vineyard,  yet  it  will  be 
found  that  our  labors  have  produced  but  ephemeral 
results  in  comparison  with  yours. 

Not  only  have  you,  for  many  years,  been  a  participator 
in  forming  musical  societies,  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a 
healthy  art  growth,  but  a  rare  foresight  impelled  you  to 
devote  your  time,  means,  and  energies  to  the  acquire- 
ment of  everything  relating  to  music, — its  history,  its 
vast  literature,  and  its  complete  or  reduced  scores  of  any 
value  from  the  earliest  compositions  to  those  of  to-day. 
Your  collection  may  fairly  be  called  stupendous;  it  is  a 
monument  to  your  industry  and  discrimination. 

Having  gathered  it,  you  presented  this  remarkable 
collection  to  the  citizens  of  Boston,  to  form  a  part  of  the 
great  stores  of  learning  in  the  Public  Library,  and  to 
be  forever  free  to  students  of  music  and  seekers  after 
musical  knowledge.  I  believe  that  this  act  has  ennobled 
you  in  the  eyes  of  every  thoughtful  citizen. 

As  a  musician,  who  foresees  the  benefits  to  flow  for  all 
future  time  from  your  generous  and  invaluable  gift,  I 
beg  to  assure  you  of  my  individual  appreciation;  and  I 
hope  to  remain,  as  ever, 

Your  friend  and  fellow-worker, 

THOMAS  RYAN. 

To  ALLEN  T.  BROWN,  Esquire, 
Boston,  Mass. 

iii 


PREFACE 

DETROSPECTION  is  the  inheritance  of 
A  \  mature  age.  We  all  love  to  recall  the 
scenes  of  the  past  and  the  companions  of  our 
pleasures  or  sorrows.  I  often  order  memory 
to  unroll  slowly  before  my  mental  vision  the 
panorama  of  my  past  life.  Upon  some  of  the 
scenes  I  look  with  a  strong  desire  to  chain 
the  wheels  that  move  them  from  view,  but  with 
others  those  wheels  cannot  turn  too  quickly. 

The  first  picture  I  call  up  stands  out  clearly 
defined.  I  see  myself  as  a  boy  again,  landing 
on  America's  shore,  with  the  pleasures  of  hope 
shining  in  my  eyes, — for  a  good  fairy  has 
touched  the  new  land  with  her  magic  wand,  and 
every  object  I  look  upon  is  strangely  beautiful. 

The  same  good  fairy  leads  me  up  State 
Street  and  Court  Street  in  Boston,  and,  wan- 
dering aimlessly  and  boylike,  I  follow  up  the 
hill  into  Pemberton  Square.  I  stand  there 
and  look  round  at  the  solid,  comfortable, 
stately  mansions  of  old  Boston's  aristocracy, 
and  possibly  I  feel  my  own  insignificance.  I 


vi  Preface 

get  my  first  glimpse  of  American  female 
beauty,  for,  looking  into  one  of  the  long  win- 
dows which  reach  to  the  parlor  floor,  I  see  a 
charming  girl  rocking  back  and  forth  in  a  kind 
of  chair  which  is  totally  new  to  my  young 
eyes.  I  am  fascinated,  fairly  entranced,  and 
doubtless  gaping  wonder  is  expressed  in  my 
countenance. 

It  is  just  fifty  years  since  that  trivial  event 
happened,    and    yet — so   wondrously   are   we 
made  ! — in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  memory 
gives  back  the  picture  perfect  in  every  detail— 
and  just  as  rapidly  will  change  it  for  another. 

In  moments  of  quiet  abstraction  I  thus  call 
up  and  dwell  on  every  past  event  from  boy- 
hood to  the  present.  I  begin  perhaps  with 
sailing  on  the  ship,  my  landing,  my  first  theatre 
employment ;  I  pass  on  to  the  formation  of 
the  Quintette  Club  and  its  first  concert  in 
Boston,  the  Jenny  Lind  visit,  the  various  or- 
chestral experiences,  the  opening  of  the  Boston 
Music  Hall,  our  club's  first  trips  out  of  New 
England  and  to  the  West,  my  first  sight  of 
great  Chicago,  romantic  California,  Honolulu, 
New  Zealand  and  the  other  Australian  colonies, 
the  return  to  glorious  America,  the  year  with 
Madame  Nilsson — and  so  on  and  on  till  all 
seems  on  a  dead  level  of  monotony  ;  and  yet 


Preface  vii 

it  has  been  as  eventful  as  most  men's  lives  are 
when  devoid  of  the  heroic  or  the  tragic. 

This  conjuring  up  of  life's  past  events  before 
the  mind's  eye  is  familiar  to  all  thoughtful  per- 
sons, but  it  is  a  half-dreaming  habit  and  enter- 
tains the  dreamer  only.  I  hope  that  it  will 
not  be  thought  that  I  have  rashly  undertaken 
the  task  of  making  my  dreamy  recollections 
interesting  to  other  people ;  I  think  there 
must  be  many  who  would  like  to  know  how  we 
of  the  earlier  musical  force  worked,  and  what 
kind  of  an  environment  we  had  fifty  years  ago. 
If  I  succeed  in  interesting  my  readers  in  my 
recollections,  I  shall  be  amply  repaid  for  the 
labor  of  jotting  them  down. 

T.  R. 

BOSTON,  March,  1899. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PACK 

Boyhood  —  Musical  Training  —  Violin  Episode  —  Sailing  for 
America — Friends  Aboard — Arrival — First  Impressions  of 
Boston — Theatre  Engagement  ......  i 

CHAPTER  II 

The  American  Atmosphere  —  The  Adelphi — John  Brougham 
—The  Howard  Theatre— The  Matrimonial  Galop— Stock 
Companies — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seguin — Musical  Education  .  n 

CHAPTER  III 

Father  Streeter's  Church  and  Stories — Junius  Brutus  Booth — 
A  Stage  Combat — Incidents  of  the  Stage — The  Viennoise 
Children 20 

CHAPTER  IV 

Henry  Herz,  Pianist — Sivori  at  Home — Paganini's  Violin — 
The  Havana  Opera  Troupe — Arditi  and  his  Admirer — 
Marti,  Pirate,  Fish  Dealer,  and  Opera  Manager  .  .  31 

CHAPTER  V 

The  Boston  Academy  of  Music — Its  Aims — Rehearsal  of  Mid- 
summer Nighfs  Dream  Overture — The  Germania  Associ- 
ation— Programme  of  its  First  Concert  in  Boston  .  .  43 


x  Contents 

CHAPTER  VI 

PAGE 

Local  Societies — The  Musical  Fund — The  Melodeon — "Old 
Tom  Comer" — His  Financial  Appeal — Haydn's  "Fare- 
well Symphony"  ........  49 

CHAPTER  VII 

Steyermark  Orchestra — Francis  Riha — Lombardi  Orchestra — 
Saxonia  Orchestra  —  Germania  Musical  Association  — 
William  Schultze — Carl  Bergman  and  his  Up  Broadway 
— First  Public  Rehearsals — Typical  Programme  .  .  56 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Influx  of  Musicians — Gungl  Orchestra — Jullien  the  Conductor 
— His  Versatility — His  Character  and  History — His  Per- 
formance of  Night  in  Crystal  Palace,  New  York  .  .  65 

CHAPTER  IX 

The  Handel  and  Haydn  Society — Mr.  John  L.  Hatton — Mr. 
Charles  C.  Perkins— Carl  Zerrahn— Dr.  J.  C.  Upham— 
The  "War  Secretaries" — B.  J.  Lang — Margaret  Ruthven 
Lang  ..........  76 

CHAPTER  X 

Ole   Bull—  The  Arkansas    Traveller— Julius  Eichberg— The 

Boston  Conservatory  of  Music 88 

CHAPTER  XI 

Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club — First  Public  Concert — Lyceum 
Lectures  and  Professor  Agassiz — Yankee  Singing-Schools 
and  Musical  Conventions — Home-bred  Talent ...  92 


Contents  xi 

CHAPTER  XII 

PAGE 

Annie  Louise  Gary  —  The  Orchestral  Union  —  The  Harvard 
Musical  Association — The  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra — 
Mr.  John  Bigelow  —  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club  Mem- 
bers .  101 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Mr.  Jonas  Chickering — The  White  Linen  Apron — Upright, 
Square,  Grand  Man — Thomas  Power — Rufus  Choate's 
Chirography — Invitation  Concert  .....  108 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Lowell  Mason — Oliver  Ditson — An  Accident — John  Sebastian 
Dwight — Dwight's  Journal  of  Music — Musical  Conserva- 
tism   115 


CHAPTER  XV 

Mendelssohn  Birthday  Festival  in  1851 — Newspaper  Notices 
— Youthful  Enthusiasm — Beethoven  Centenary  Commemo- 
ration ..........  123 

CHAPTER  XVI 

Jenny  Lind — Her  History — How  a  Poor  Boy  Earned  his  Ticket 
— An  Advertising  Dodge — Jules  Benedict— Belletti — Otto 
Goldschmidt — Daniel  Webster's  Bow — Concert  in  Fitch- 
burg  Depot — Jenny  Lind  at  Northampton  .  .  .128 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Catherine  Hays — Madame  Sontag — Carl  Eckert — Paul  Jullien, 

the  Boy  Violinist — Alboni — Hector  Berlioz       .         .         .     144 


xii  Contents 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

PAGE 

William  Lloyd  Garrison — Mrs.  Garrison — Theodore  Parker — 
Thomas  Starr  King — Collaboration  with  Oliver  Wendell 
Holmes — National  Hymns 148 

CHAPTER  XIX 

Changes  of  the  Quintette  Club — William  Schultze — S.  Jacob- 
sohn — Playing  for  a  Sick  Man — Schubert's  Swan  Song — 
"  Death  and  the  Maiden  " 155 

CHAPTER  XX 

Trips  to  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Washington — The  Washing- 
ton Editor — A  Musical  Criticism — Going  West — Elliot's 
Advertising  Feat — A  Partnership  Poster  ....  162 

CHAPTER   XXI 

The  National  College  of  Music— The  Boston  Fire— The  Lady 
Lecturer — Travelling  Tales — The  Young  Men's  Society — 
Statuettes  Metamorphosed  ......  172 

CHAPTER  XXII 

The  Peace  Jubilees — Patrick  Sarsfield  Gilmore — The  Province 
House — Parepa-Rosa — Drilling  Choristers  in  New  Eng- 
land— The  ' '  Anvil  Chorus  " — Programme  of  First  Jubilee 
Concert  ..........  185 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

The  Second  Jubilee — Foreign  Bands — Political  Antagonisms 
and  Musical  Rivalry — Madame  Pescha  Leutner — Madame 
Rudersdorf — Johann  Strauss  ......  198 


Contents  xiii 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

PAGE 

Wieniawski — His   Style  of   Playing — Rubinstein — A  Musical 

Evening — A  Visit  to  the  Kitchen 204 

CHAPTER  XXV 

Trip  to  California — From  Snowdrifts  to  Roses — To  Australia 
—  Concert  at  Sydney,  New  South  Wales  —  Brisbane, 
Queensland — Natives  and  their  Characteristics — Marybor- 
ough and  Gympie — A  Smoking  Audience  .  .  .210 

CHAPTER  XXVI 

Tasmania — Hobart,  the  Capital — Ascent  of  Mount  Wellington 

— Launceston — A  Paganini  Souvenir — Volunteer  Settlers,     220 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

Return  to  Sydney — An  Unexpected  Encounter — A  Sad  Story 
— Farewell  Concert — To  Melbourne — Julius  Siede — To 
Adelaide,  South  Australia — Wellington,  Capital  of  New 
Zealand  —  Dr.  Hector  and  the  Mountain  Lake  —  The 
Maoris — Concert  at  Honolulu — Teresa  Carreno  .  .  227 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Christine  Nilsson — Her  Genial  Character — A  Christmas  Eve 

Surprise — Otto  Hegner,  Boy  Pianist          ....     242 

CHAPTER  XXIX 

Incidents  and  Happenings — Indian  Auditors — Bird  Imitation 
— Noisy  Exit  at  Topeka — Hardships  of  Travel  —  The 
Prairie  Schooner — Sleighing  under  Difficulties — Printers' 
Pranks  ..........  247 


xiv  Contents 

CHAPTER  XXX 

PACK 

Some  New  England  Musicians — J.  C.  D.  Parker — J.  K.  Paine 

— Ernsf  Perabo — Arthur  Foote — George  Sumner      .        .     259 

CHAPTER  XXXI 

Soldiers'  Home  at  Milwaukee — Saluting  the  Stars  and  Stripes 

— A  Later  Visit — "  Bully  for  the  Dutch  "  .         .         .     266 

CHAPTER  XXXII 

Joachim   the  Violinist — Matinee  bei   Joachim — Berlin   High 

School  of  Music — Playing  of  Pupils — Americans — L'Envoi,     271 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


THOMAS  RYAN      ....        Frontispiece 

THE  RYAN  HOME i 

JOHN  BROUGHAM  AND  McCuLLOUGH  ...  12 

CHARLOTTE  CUSHMAN  ......  20 

AUGUSTE  FRIES 26 

SIVORI  .........  32 

ALLEN  T.  BROWN 38 

GEORGE  JAMES  WEBB 46 

WILLIAM  SCHULTZE      ......  58 

MARIE  BARNA 66 

FRITZ  GIESE          .......  72 

CARL  ZERRAHN 80 

B.  J.  LANG 84 

OLE  BULL 90 

MENDELSSOHN  QUINTETTE  CLUB,  1849         .        .  94 

ANNIE  LOUISE  GARY 101 

JOHN  BIGELOW 104 

JONAS  CHICKERING no 

LOWELL  MASON 112 

OLIVER  DITSON  116 


xvi  List  of  Illustrations 


PAGE 


JOHN  S.  D WIGHT 120 

FELIX  BARTHOLDY  MENDELSSOHN         .        .         .126 

ANTON  HEKKING  .......  132 

WULF  FRIES 136 

JENNY  LIND 140 

WILLIAM  LLOYD  GARRISON 148 

MRS.  GARRISON    .         .         .         .         .         .         .152 

RUDOLPH  HENNIG 158 

CAMILLE  URSO 164 

D.  H.  ELLIOT      .         .         .         .         .         .         .170 

MARGARET  RUTHVEN  LANG         ....  178 

PATRICK  S.  GILMORE 186 

PAREPA-ROSA 192 

JOHANN  STRAUSS 200 

HENRI  WIENIAWSKI 204 

ANTON  RUBINSTEIN      ......  206 

THE  CLUB  THAT  WENT  TO  AUSTRALIA,  1881,       .  212 

HOBART,  TASMANIA 220 

FERN  TREES  NEAR  INVERCARGILL        .         .         .  233 

ADELAIDE,  SOUTH  AUSTRALIA      ....  233 

DUNEDIN,  NEW  ZEALAND    .....  234 

LILA  JUEL    ........  238 

CHRISTINE  NILSSON 242 

OTTO  HEGNER  AND  HIS  FATHER         .        .        .  248 

GEORGE  W.  SUMNER 262 

THE  MENDELSSOHN  QUINTETTE  CLUB          .         .  266 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  AN 
OLD  MUSICIAN 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  old  musician  who  presents  these  re- 
collections to  the  reader  believes  that 
there  are  a  goodly  number  of  old-time  friends, 
those  who  lived  in  the  "  fifties,"  who  will  share 
his  pleasure  in  recalling  local  history  of  musical 
and  theatrical  life. 

As  a  participator  in  most  of  the  occurrences 
here  detailed,  I  claim  the  privilege  of  writing 
in  the  first  person,  and  of  introducing  myself 
by  a  few  pages  of  autobiography.  I  hope 
to  be  credited  with  modesty ;  and  I  will  inflict 
only  a  small  section  of  my  personal  history  on 
the  reader.  I  would  not  do  even  that  were  it 
not  that  I  can  fairly  be  considered  a  type  of  the 
average  professional  musician.  Moved  by  the 
same  feeling  that  makes  us  watch  the  growth 
of  a  tender  young  plant  with  interest,  we  follow 


2       Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

with  no  less  interest  the  growth  of  the  human 
plant,  we  try  to  find  out  its  origin  and  what  has 
been  its  environment ;  knowing  that,  we  make 
deductions  which  become  part  of  our  stock  of 
knowledge. 

One  fact  is  quickly  recognized  ;  namely,  that 
the  musician  who,  with  enthusiasm  and  love 
for  the  art,  works  his  way  to  the  front,  generally 
comes  from  the  class  in  which  poverty  and 
struggle  are  born  twins,  and  are  ever  wrestling 
with  each  other ;  and  the  persistent  wrestler  is 
the  one  who  inevitably  overcomes  his  twin 
brother,  and  leaves  him  behind  in  the  ranks  of 
the  lazy  and  the  slothful. 

My  father  was  a  soldier  in  the  English  army. 
He  was  a  passionate  lover  of  music  and  played 
the  flute  respectably.  I  naturally  infer  that  I 
inherited  from  him  my  musical  temperament. 
I  began  to  study  the  flute  when  I  was  about 
nine  years  old.  My  father  did  not  own  a 
beginner's  book  for  the  instrument,  and  a 
friend  loaned  me  one.  On  a  certain  Christmas 
morning  I  was  given  a  sixpence.  With  that 
Fortunatus-gift  I  trudged  three  miles  from  our 
fort  into  the  town  of  Kinsale,  Ireland,  and 
bought  twelve  sheets  of  music-paper,  on  which 
I  copied  the  entire  instruction  book,  exercises 
and  all,  from  cover  to  cover.  It  is  a  trifling 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician       3 

bit  of  history,  but  shows  me  conclusively  that 
I  was  made  of  the  right  stuff.  I  think  it  is 
not  often  recorded  that  a  boy  of  nine  spends 
his  Christmas-gift  money  to  purchase  paper  in 
order  to  copy  an  instruction  book. 

What  would  I  not  give  now  to  possess  that 
copy  !  None  of  us  as  boys  realize  how  highly  we 
shall  prize  certain  things  which  were  fashioned 
by  our  own  hands  when  we  were  little  fellows. 
We  do  not  foresee  the  time  when  some  of 
these  trifles  will  be  counted  among  our  dearest 
treasures. 

Until  I  was  ten  years  old  I  practically  had 
heard  no  music,  for  my  father's  regiment  was 
away  on  foreign  service  with  its  band.  A  little 
later,  to  my  great  delight,  a  regiment  with  a 
complete  band  came  to  our  post.  I  was  on 
the  watch  for  their  first  rehearsal ;  I  begged 
father  to  take  me  to  it.  He  and  I  entered  the 
room  just  as  the  band  was  beginning  to  play  the 
overture  to  Fra  Diavolo.  The  drum  solo 
with  which  it  begins  transfixed  me,  but  when 
the  trumpet  solo  at  the  opening  allegro  began, 
I  screamed  with  delight  and  father  had  to 
put  his  hand  over  my  mouth  to  keep  me  from 
disturbing  the  musicians.  It  is  safe  to  say 
that  a  certain  little  boy  was  present  every 
time  that  band  played. 


4      Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

When  I  was  fourteen  years  old,  father's  reg- 
iment returned  to  England.  The  band  was 
good,  thanks  to  its  skilful  master.  From  that 
time  on  I  had  fairly  good  and  regular  training 
in  music.  I  was  placed  under  the  band-mas- 
ter's care,  who  became  a  kind  of  second  father  to 
me,  and  helped  me  in  my  ambitious  desire  to 
study  all  the  band  instruments,  but  kept  me 
mainly  on  the  clarinet.  When  I  was  sixteen 
years  old,  I  was  made  to  feel  very  proud  by 
being  invited  to  play  second  clarinet  in  the 
Anacreontic  Society  of  Belfast,  Ireland.  This 
was  my  first  playing  with  anything  like  a 
symphony  orchestra.  The  immediate  result 
was  to  inspire  me  with  an  unconquerable  de- 
sire to  study  the  violin.  An  incident  in  con- 
nection therewith  is  perhaps  worth  recording. 

Strolling  one  day  in  Belfast,  I  saw  in  a 
pawn-shop  window  an  old  violin  with  a  hand- 
some carved  head,  and,  boylike,  I  desired  to 
own  it.  I  stepped  into  the  shop  and  inquired 
the  price.  It  was  one  guinea.  I  had  in  my 
pocket  just  ten  shillings,  which  I  handed  over 
to  the  shopkeeper,  who  gave  me  a  written 
guaranty  that  he  would  hold  the  violin  till  I 
paid  him  the  balance  of  the  money.  I  went 
at  once  to  my  music-master,  told  him  I  needed 
eleven  shillings  to  buy  something  not  to  be 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician      5 

mentioned,  got  the  money,  bought  the  violin, 
carried  it  to  my  teacher,  and  told  him  I  wanted 
to  learn  to  play  the  instrument.  He  was  very 
much  pleased,  examined  the  instrument,  said 
it  was  not  of  much  value,  but  if  I  really  wanted 
to  study  the  violin  I  could  use  his.  This  was 
a  valuable  instrument  that  had  been  in  the 
family  for  two  generations.  He  paid  me  back 
my  ten  shillings,  fitted  me  out  with  violin,  bow, 
and  the  unfailing  Kreutzer  Method,  and  gave 
me  lessons  for  about  eighteen  months,  till  the 
regiment  was  ordered  to  leave  England  again 
for  foreign  service.  We  then  had  to  part 
company.  I  returned  the  violin,  said  good-bye 
to  my  dear  friend  and  music-teacher,  made  a 
short  farewell  visit  to  my  family,  went  to  Liver- 
pool, and  took  passage  in  a  sailing-ship  for 
Boston. 

Before  going  farther  with  my  history,  I  must 
say  a  little  more  about  that  violin.  About 
thirty  years  ago  our  Quintette  Club  was  en- 
gaged for  a  concert  in  Montreal.  In  the  con- 
cert room  some  members  of  my  family,  who 
were  travelling  with  us,  noticed  in  the  audi- 
ence an  old  gentleman  of  very  dignified  ap- 
pearance, who  seemed  entirely  engrossed  with 
the  music  ;  when  it  was  my  turn  to  come  for- 
ward and  play  a  clarinet  solo  he  almost  rose 


6      Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

to  his  feet ;  and  while  I  was  playing  his  hand- 
kerchief was  in  constant  use,  for  tears  were 
running  down  his  cheeks.  As  soon  as  the  last 
note  of  my  piece  was  sounded,  the  gentleman 
jumped  up,  rushed  towards  the  stage,  met  me 
face  to  face,  and  throwing  his  arms  about  me 
just  as  I  recognized  him,  he  exclaimed,  "  Tom, 
my  boy  ! " — and  I  beheld  once  more  my  dear 
old  friend  and  music  master.  He  had  recently 
been  stationed  in  Montreal,  and  seeing  my 
name  in  the  announcement  of  the  concert,  had 
been  to  the  hotel  to  find  me  ;  but  as  our  party 
was  late  in  arriving,  he  had  to  wait  until  the 
evening  before  he  could  see  me. 

After  the  concert  I  went  home  with  him,  for 
we  had  a  thousand  things  to  say  to  each  other. 
On  entering  the  parlor,  there  on  a  centre  table 
lay  the  old  violin  with  the  carved  head  that  I 
had  bought  in  the  pawn-shop  in  Belfast,  Ire- 
land. I  examined  it,  and  saw  that  it  was  worth 
very  little  from  a  money  point  of  view,  but  it 
possessed  for  me  an  inestimable  sentimental 
value.  I  said  to  my  old  friend,  "  I  must  have 
that  violin." 

"  No,  Tom,  you  cannot,"  he  answered ; 
"  for  in  all  my  wanderings  since  you  parted 
from  me,  it  has  generally  been  the  first  thing  I 
unpacked.  I  will  tell  you,  though,  what  you 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician      7 

can  have  ;  I  will  give  you  the  old  family  violin, 
the  one  on  which  you  began  to  study." 

Naturally,  I  was  very  much  affected  by  so 
generous  an  act.  In  vain  I  offered  to  pay  him 
for  the  instrument ;  he  would  not  listen.  We 
passed  a  couple  of  delightful  hours  in  relating 
our  happenings ;  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  my  old  friend  many  times  thereafter  ere 
he  passed  away  to  join  the  good  people  in 
Paradise. 

I  have  the  violin  now,  and  must  relate  an- 
other event  in  its  history.  At  one  period  it 
needed  some  repairs,  and  I  gave  it  into  the 
hands  of  the  well-known  Mr.  Warren  White, 
who  had  a  store  and  repair-shop  in  the  Tremont 
Temple.  When  the  instrument  was  repaired 
I  had  it  well  packed  in  paper,  and  a  tag  with 
my  name  attached  to  it.  I  then  handed  it  to 
the  storekeeper  with  the  request  that  he  would 
put  it  in  a  safe  place  while  I  did  some  errands. 
I  saw  him  push  it  into  a  sort  of  pigeon-hole 
under  the  front  shop-window  ;  then  the  transac- 
tion passed  from  my  mind.  Some  months 
later,  needing  the  violin,  I  opened  the  case, 
and  was  horrified  to  find  it  empty.  Every 
member  of  my  family  could  recall  the  fact  of 
my  taking  the  violin  away  to  be  repaired,  but 
knew  nothing  further.  I  remembered  getting 


8      Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

it  from  Mr.  White,  and  that  was  all.  I  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  I  had  left  it  somewhere 
while  attending  to  my  errands,  and  mourned 
sincerely  the  loss  of  the  instrument. 

Nearly  a  year  from  that  time  I  received  no- 
tice from  Mr.  White  that  he  was  moving  to 
another  store,  and  that  a  violin  tagged  with 
my  name  had  been  found  in  one  of  the  pigeon- 
holes under  his  store  window.  I  went  with 
great  glee,  re-found  my  old  friend,  and  carried 
it  home  in  triumph. 

To  return  to  my  personal  history :  While 
on  the  voyage  to  Boston,  there  was  very  little 
to  interest  me  outside  of  my  own  thoughts. 
The  passengers  on  a  sailing-vessel  in  those 
days  were  not  very  congenial,  and  I, — a  rather 
shy  boy  of  seventeen, — though  full  of  curiosity 
about  the  new  home  before  me,  and  of  enthu- 
siasm for  the  profession  which  was  to  be  my 
life-work,  felt  a  depressing  sense  of  isolation. 

A  six  weeks'  voyage,  however,  usually  brings 
people  together  who  otherwise  would  never 
know  or  care  for  each  other.  It  happened 
that  my  practice  on  the  clarinet  in  my  state- 
room was  overheard  by  some  Western  people, 
who  became  interested,  and  soon  began  to  like 
to  talk  with  me.  Their  kind  words  quite  won 
my  heart,  for  the  homesick  "  all-alone-in-the 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician      9 

world "  feeling  had  taken  possession  of  me, 
and  I  was  in  the  mood  to  welcome  friendly 
advances.  These  good  people  tried  to  induce 
me  to  go  West,  but  I  had  determined  to  make 
Boston  my  home,  and  would  not  abandon  the 
idea.  Yet  often  my  heart  reached  out  to  these 
friends,  and  in  after  years  when  I  met  them 
again  and  again  I  found  them  always  staunch 
and  true. 

I  think  I  shall  never  forget  my  first  sight  of  the 
city  which  has  been  my  home  for  so  many  years, 
— it  was  rapture.  Early  morning  was  just  dawn- 
ing when  we  made  Boston  Light.  The  rising 
sun  was  shedding  its  rosy  beams  on  the  dome 
of  the  State  House.  The  splendid  bay  and 
harbor,  the  picturesque,  pleasant  homes  on  the 
shores,  seemed  so  beautiful  in  the  clear  early 
summer  atmosphere  that  it  was  just  like  fairy- 
land to  me — the  sanguine  boy  of  seventeen  and 
a  half  years  old,  who  was  so  soon  to  try  a  new 
life.  I  was  full  of  faith  that  everything  and 
every  face  was  to  smile  on  me — and  all  did 
smile  on  me,  for  even  when  separating  from 
my  ship  friends,  who  were  perhaps  the  first 
Americans  I  had  ever  met,  I  had  their  parting 
benedictions  to  go  with  and  sustain  me  for  the 
first  few  days  spent  in  seeking  an  engagement. 

On  the  third   day  from   landing,   in    May, 


io    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

1845,  I  was  duly  engaged  as  flautist  at  the 
Washington  Street  Theatre,  at  the  very  re- 
spectable salary  of  seven  dollars  per  week.  Mr. 
William  B.  English  was  the  manager.  The 
theatre  was  on  the  corner  of  Winter  and  Wash- 
ington streets,  over  Lee's  saloon,  now  Tuttle's 
shoe  store. 


CHAPTER  II 

THERE  was,  and  is  to-day,  an  indescribable 
something  in  the  atmosphere  of  America 
which  gives  to  the  stranger  the  impression  that 
every  one  is  happy,  prosperous,  and  having  a 
good  picnic-like  time  ;  while  in  Europe  a  more 
serious  and  depressing  atmosphere  exists.  I 
remember  distinctly  how  jubilant  the  new  life 
and  new  country  made  me,  and  how  happy  I 
was  to  earn  so  much  money  and  amuse  myself 
evenings  by  playing  in  a  pretty  theatre.  The 
idea  of  its  being  labor  did  not  occur  to  me. 

The  only  souvenirs  that  I  have  of  that  first 
summer  are  the  little  comedies  brought  out  by 
Mr.  English,  and  his  melodrama  of  Rosina 
Meadows,  which  first  saw  light  in  that  little 
theatre,  and  had  a  great  run  for  several  years. 
The  two  Chapman  brothers  were  very  clever, 
funny  people,  and  were  inimitable  in  the  cele- 
brated Mrs.  Caudles  Curtain  Lectures,  written 
by  Douglas  Jerrold  for  Punch  (to  which  he 
was  a  principal  contributor),  and  prepared  for 
the  stage  by  some  witty  playwright.  We  had 
also  the  well-known  Mrs.  Drake  and  her 


12    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

daughter, — the  latter  a  beautiful  girl  and  a 
wonderful  soubrette,  who  afterward  married 
Harry  Chapman.  "Gentleman  Fenno"  was 
the  leading  man. 

The  indulgent  reader  will  permit  me  to  relate 
here  an  experience  I  passed  through  last  win- 
ter, while  the  opera  was  at  the  Boston  Theatre, 
which  affected  me  strongly.  I  was  strolling 
in  the  corridor  between  the  acts,  my  eyes  idly 
scanning  the  old  play-bills  which  hang  on  the 
walls,  when — lo  and  behold  ! — there  hangs  a 
play-bill  of  the  little  Washington  Street  Thea- 
tre, a  programme  of  a  night  in  July,  1845.  I 
stand  transfixed.  All  the  old  names  and  pieces 
recall  the  scene  to  memory  so  vividly  that  I  am 
again  the  youth  of  seventeen  years,  breathing 
the  romantic  atmosphere  in  which  I  then  lived. 
It  positively  unfitted  me  for  enjoying  the  rest 
of  the  evening.  Henceforward  I  know  there 
is  a  spot  in  the  corridor  which  has  a  special 
attraction  for  me. 

In  the  autumn  of  1845  Mr.  English  moved 
his  dramatic  company  to  a  small  theatre  on 
Court  Street,  the  stage  end  of  which  looked 
into  Cornhill,  and  the  auditorium  reached  to 
Brattle  Street, — all  on  the  second  story  of 
the  building.  The  dramatic  company  com- 
prised many  people  of  genius  in  their  special- 


JOHN  BROUGHAM  AND  McCULLOUQH.  Page  13 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     13 

ties,  including  the  inimitable  John  Brougham 
and  his  wife ;  Chanfrau,  who  was  even  then 
famous  in  his  rdle  of  "  Mose,  the  Volunteer 
Fireman  "  ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bland,  the  two  Chap- 
mans,  Chippendale,  and  Miss  Drake.  The 
theatre  was  called  the  Adelphi.  Its  main  line 
of  work  was  musical  extravaganza.  John 
Brougham  tried  most  of  his  pieces  in  Boston 
long  before  he  moved  to  New  York — pieces 
like  Pocahontas  and  Cherry  and  Fair  Star. 
He  composed  parodies — even  on  great  works 
like  Macbeth, — of  which  there  seemed  to 
be  no  end.  Everything  produced  was  for  fun, 
and  Brougham  was  quite  the  life  and  soul  of  it 
all.  He  was  to  me  a  wonderful  man — hand- 
some, good-natured,  and  ready-witted. 

One  night  in  the  course  of  a  piece,  he  had 
to  hide  himself  in  a  large  old  standard  clock 
and  at  a  given  moment  rush  out  in  defence  of 
the  inevitable  young  lady  in  difficulties.  Mak- 
ing an  incautious  rush,  he  knocked  over  the 
old  clock  and  sprawled  out  on  the  floor.  The 
hands  of  the  clock  flew  near  to  the  feet  of 
the  stage  villain.  Brougham,  whose  ready  wit 
never  halted,  shouted  out,  "  Even  the  clock 
says,  '  Hands  off ! "  You  may  imagine  the 
roar  of  laughter  which  this  impromptu  sally 
drew  from  the  audience. 


H    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Mrs.  Brougham  was  a  handsome,  though 
large  and  over-fleshy  woman.  According  to 
stage  history,  in  her  younger  days  she  had 
been  an  accomplished  dancer  ;  and  even  now 
she  could  dance  with  the  aerial  agility  of  a 
Taglioni.  She  was  also  a  fairly  good  singer. 
All  the  others  were  skilled  artists,  who  had 
been  through  the  training-school  of  stock  com- 
panies. They  had  one  and  all  been  selected 
by  Brougham,  and  were  a  set  of  people  whose 
counterparts  could  not  be  found  in  this  age. 

I  played  in  this  little  theatre  two  seasons. 
Then  came  promotion.  I  was  engaged  to 
play  in  the  Howard  Atheneum,  at  the  munifi- 
cent salary  of  nine  dollars  per  week.  That 
theatre  had  just  been  built  on  the  site  of  the 
"  Second  Advent  Tabernacle."  It  was  said 
that  the  builders  of  the  theatre  put  in  the  big 
church  window  in  front,  in  readiness  to  convert 
the  building  to  church  uses  in  the  event  of  its 
not  being  successful  as  a  theatre.  The  "  Tab- 
ernacle "  was  a  large  wooden  barn  of  a  building 
and  had  for  a  few  years  been  used  for  theatre 
and  opera,  after  the  religious  delusion  had  ex- 
ploded. One  very  lucky  night  it  burnt  down, 
and  then  was  built  the  fairly  solid  Howard 
Atheneum. 

Playing  in  this  new  theatre  was  for  me  an 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     15 

agreeable  change.  It  had,  for  those  days, 
quite  a  sizable  orchestra.  The  leader  sat  fa- 
cing the  stage,  and  was  for  a  long  time  the  only 
first  violin.  We  had  but  one  second  violin, 
one  viola,  one  contrabass,  no  violoncello,  one 
flute,  two  clarinets,  one  fagott,  two  horns,  a 
trumpet,  a  trombone,  and  drums.  The  kind 
and  quality  of  music  played  would  nowadays 
strike  one  as  queer.  It  consisted  of  overtures, 
quadrilles,  polkas,  galops — in  short,  mostly 
dance  music.  There  was  a  total  absence  of 
so-called  popular  music,  if  we  except  a  few 
quicksteps  and  marches.  There  were  no  char- 
acteristic pieces  such  as  figure  on  the  pro- 
grammes of  to-day. 

I  well  remember  the  first  one  we  were 
asked  to  play.  It  was  called  the  Matrimonial 
Galop.  It  was  of  ordinary  construction,  the 
only  reason  for  its  peculiar  name  being  a  sud- 
den hold-up,  where  the  drummer  or  leader,  I 
forget  which,  blew  into  a  little  instrument  that 
gave  out  a  sound  like  the  cry  of  a  baby.  That 
childish  noise  made  the  audience  roar  with  de- 
light, and  we  had  to  play  it  nightly.  We  poor 
musicians  suffered  ;  but  one  night  we  had  our 
revenge.  The  usual  calls  came  from  the  audi- 
ence— they  wanted  the  baby-cry,  but  did  not  get 
it.  The  machine  crying-baby  had  vanished — 


1 6    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

it  could  not  be  found.  Consternation  reigned 
among  those  who  wanted  the  people  pleased, 
no  matter  how  it  was  done.  We  tried  to  ap- 
pease the  audience  by  playing  the  galop ;  but 
when  we  came  to  the  spot  of  spots,  and  there 
was  no  realistic  baby-cry,  but  only  a  base  imi- 
tation made  on  the  fiddle,  a  howl  of  derision 
and  rage  went  up,  equal  to  anything  ever 
heard  in  a  menagerie.  The  disappointment 
was  more  than  the  audience  could  stand. 

It  was  a  time  in  the  history  of  our  people 
when  concessionnaires  were  allowed  to  peddle 
apples,  oranges,  candy,  and  the  like,  in  the 
upper  tiers.  The  indignant  gods  of  the  gallery 
began  to  pelt  us  with  their  apples  and  oranges, 
and  we  had  to  leave  the  orchestra  in  a  hurry. 
The  manager  came  before  the  curtain  and 
tried  to  be  funny,  but  a  good  half-hour  was 
spent  in  waiting  for  quiet.  Finally  there  was 
a  lull  in  the  gale,  the  curtain  rang  up,  and 
a  piece  began.  What  the  manager  tried  to 
say  to  the  audience  was  that  some  fellow  whose 
baby  had  died  had  stolen  the  machine  and 
carried  it  home  to  console  the  poor  dejected 
mother ! 

The  Howard,  of  which  Mr.  Ayling  was  the 
manager,  had  a  large  stock  company.  My 
young  readers  are  not  to  infer  from  the  word 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     1 7 

"  stock  "  that  a  syndicate  of  capitalists  exploited 
the  finances  of  the  theatre.  It  means,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  present  custom  of  having 
entire  companies  of  players  travel  from  town 
to  town,  that  the  theatre  had  its  own  regular 
company,  and  was  visited  by  individual  stars, 
such  as  Booth  (the  elder),  Macready,  Char- 
lotte Cushman,  E.  L.  Davenport,  Cora  Mowatt, 
and  occasionally  a  complete  opera  company, 
like  the  Seguins,  which  I  think  was  the  only 
opera  company  then  travelling  in  the  United 
States. 

We  had  also  visits  from  ballet  companies,  at 
that  time  very  much  in  vogue.  It  would 
doubtless  be  a  strange  entertainment  for  the 
present  age.  Imagine  people  being  now 
asked  to  spend  two  or  three  hours  witnessing 
a  play  in  "  dumb  show"  ;  though  good  panto- 
mimic action,  artistic  dancing,  fine  scenery,  and 
the  best  of  instrumental  music  were  given. 
Apropos,  I  may  be  allowed  to  state  that  the 
best  composers  of  the  period — mostly  French 
— wrote  good  ballets  ;  notably  Les  Wilts,  by 
Adolphe  Adam,  composer  of  Le  Postilion  de 
Longjumeau,  Le  Chdlet,  and  many  other  operas. 

Visits  from  the  Seguin  Opera  Company  were 
a  delight  to  me.  The  performances  were  up 
to  a  very  creditable  standard,  the  singing  being 


1 8    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

in  English  of  course.  The  list  included  most 
of  the  operas  by  Balfe,  Wallace,  Donizetti, 
Bellini,  Auber,  Adam,  and  Boieldieu  ;  such  as 
Masaniello,  Fra  Diavolo,  Crown  Diamonds,  La, 
Bayadere,  La  Sonnambula,  The  Stranger,  Nor- 
ma,  The  Pirate,  I  Puritani,  Lucrezia,  Lucia, 
The  Daughter  of  the  Regiment,  and  La  Dame 
Blanche.  The  only  operas  with  a  comic  ad- 
mixture were  The  Barber  and  the  Elixir 
of  Love.  The  educated  musician  will  re- 
cognize all  these  as  almost  classic  works,  and 
our  present  race  of  opera  singers  may  well 
take  off  their  hats  in  acknowledgment  of  the 
ability  of  their  predecessors. 

Mrs.  Seguin,  the  leading  soprano,  was  a 
genuine  musician,  a  worthy  sample  of  the 
good  all-round  artist  that  comes  only  from 
England.  That  means  one  who  was  put  at 
the  piano  in  early  life,  is  at  home  in  all  piano 
music,  and  has  studied  enough  to  be  a  capable 
harmonist.  The  next  step  was  voice  build- 
ing,— solfeggio  in  every  shape,  individual  parts 
in  opera  and  the  invaluable  oratorio, — each 
being  carried  on  without  undue  haste.  Such 
a  person  matures  with  a  real  respect  for  music 
as  an  art.  Mrs.  Seguin  was  a  comely  woman 
of  fresh  rosy  English  complexion,  full  of  grace 
and  vivacity  in  all  her  movements,  a  painstak- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     19 

ing  actress,  industrious  in  every  detail  necessary 
to  complete  stage  preparation,  and  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  company.  I  cannot  recall  a  better 
singer,  actress,  and  musician  combined  in  one 
person.  Certainly  among  our  young  American 
singers,  in  whose  training  everything  which 
tends  to  make  a  thorough  musician  is  generally 
omitted,  not  one  can  be  singled  out  to  com- 
pare with  Madame  Seguin  in  her  prime. 

Mr.  Seguin  was  also  a  capital  singer  and  a 
remarkably  good  actor.  I  think  that  his 
"  Devilshoof  "  in  The  Bohemian  Girl  has  never 
been  excelled.  He  had  a  grand,  flexible  bass 
voice,  together  with  a  fund  of  humor  that  made 
his  rdles  in  The  Barber  and  Elixir  of  Love 
stand  out  as  masterpieces.  It  is  to  be  under- 
stood that  opera  bouffe,  or  the  so-called  comic 
opera  of  the  present  time,  was  not  in  existence. 
Musicians  may  congratulate  themselves  there- 
on, for  thus  they  escaped  the  "  topical  song  " 
infliction  and  other  musical  rot  of  this  day. 


CHAPTER   III 

I  MUST  not  omit  one  historic  fact,  namely, 
— theatres  in  Boston  were  not  allowed  to 
give  dramatic  or  operatic  performances  on  Sat- 
urdays (too  near  Sunday  !),  and  that  gave  us 
musicians  our  freedom ;  hence  the  custom  of 
devoting  Saturdays  to  society  concerts.  I  re- 
call another  fact  :  several  churches  did  not 
have  organs,  so  they  called  in  the  assistance 
of  the  "  devil's  instruments  " — fiddles  and  cor- 
nets— to  help  the  singers.  I  played  the  clari- 
net for  two  years  in  Father  Streeter's  church 
on  Hanover  Street.  We  had  a  little  orchestra 
composed  of  a  violin  (Mr.  William  Warren), 
clarinet  (T.  Ryan),  contrabass  (Mr.  Burdett), 
and  ophicleide  (Mr.  Cutting). 

Old  Father  Streeter  was  a  good  story-teller. 
One  day  he  told  us  that  he  noticed  one  of  his 
congregation  leaning  back  in  his  pew  and 
sleeping  with  his  mouth  open.  A  sailor  in  the 
gallery  discovered  the  sleeper  and  his  trap- 
door of  a  mouth  ;  took  a  plug  of  tobacco  out 
of  his  own  mouth,  poised  it,  took  aim,  and  let 

20 


CHARLOTTE  CUSHMAN. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    21 

it  drop.  It  fell  into  the  trap  and  choked  the 
sleeper,  who  jumped  to  his  feet  in  sudden 
wakefulness.  Another  time  Father  Streeter 
noticed  a  man  with  a  fiery  red  head  fast  asleep, 
and  a  small  boy  directly  behind  him  went 
through  the  motions  of  a  blacksmith  heating 
an  iron  ;  he  held  the  imaginary  iron  close  to 
the  red  hair,  carefully  turned  it,  and  hammered 
it  on  his  knee.  Good  Father  Streeter  with 
much  difficulty  maintained  his  gravity. 

The  managers  of  theatres,  backed  up  by  our 
worthiest  citizens,  petitioned  the  legislature 
many  times  to  permit  matinees  on  Saturday 
afternoons.  It  was  finally  granted.  That  en- 
tering wedge  soon  opened  the  way  for  the 
evening  performance, — I  think  in  about  1850. 

I  came  near  being  killed  one  night  in  the 
Howard.  The  elder  Booth  was  playing  the 
title  role  of  Richard  the  Third,  and  was  in  one 
of  his  magnificent  moods,  when,  during  the 
development  of  a  tragedy,  he  would  become  so 
impassioned  and  exalted  that  he  believed  him- 
self to  be  a  real  personage  in  a  living  drama. 
At  such  times  there  was  positive  danger  for 
any  one  on  or  near  the  stage.  The  "  Rich- 
monds  "  had  to  be  good  masters  of  the  sword. 
Booth  was  of  medium  size,  compact  figure, 
strong,  and  full  of  nervous  force.  He  had  been 


\ 


22    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

known,  in  some  of  his  stage  fights,  to  chase  his 
antagonist  off  the  stage,  around  the  wings,  and 
onto  the  stage  again ;  and  it  required  the  ut- 
most circumspection  on  the  part  of  his  oppo- 
nent to  avoid  being  killed. 

On  the  night  in  question  I  was  in  my  usual 
place  in  the  orchestra,  helping  to  play  the  bat- 
tle music,  with  one  eye  on  the  stage  watching 
the  progress  of  the  combat,  which  was  terribly 
real.  In  a  wild  paroxysm  Booth  knocked  the 
sword  out  of  Richmond's  hand  with  terrific 
force  ;  it  flew  towards  the  orchestra,  grazed  the 
side  of  my  head,  and  then  stuck  quivering  with 
its  point  well  embedded  in  the  wooden  music- 
desk  directly  behind  me.  I  never  again  sat  in 
the  orchestra  when  any  such  sword-fight  was 
in  progress. 

The  combat  between  Richard  and  Richmond 
reminds  me  of  a  very  funny  termination  to  this 
same  scene  as  I  once  saw  it  enacted  in  a  thea- 
tre in  Toronto,  Ontario.  Doubtless  there  are 
those  in  that  city  who  will  remember  the  inci- 
dent, for  it  happened  not  many  years  ago. 
Richard  had  the  traditional  hunch  on  his  royal 
back,  but  it  had  been  incautiously  made  up. 
During  the  progress  of  the  famous  combat,  it 
was  seen  to  change  position,  in  fact  it  began  to 
move  down  to  Richard's  middle  ;  then  came 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     23 

an  awful  catastrophe, — the  hunch  fell  on  the 
stage  !  Every  one  could  see  that  it  was  made 
up  of  an  old  pair  of  flannel  drawers — tapes  and 
all.  When  it  fell,  it  spread  out  in  as  comical  a 
shape  as  could  have  been  made  of  deliberate 
design.  Instantly  there  was  a  roar  of  laughter, 
enough  to  almost  "  raise  the  roof."  The  ac- 
tors tried  to  go  on,  but  a  sudden  remembrance 
of  the  old  drawers  would  every  now  and  then 
convulse  the  audience  and  make  any  serious 
attention  to  the  play  impossible.  It  was  a  re- 
lief when  Richard  was  killed  and  the  curtain 
rung  down. 

Naturally  many  funny  things  happen  in  thea- 
tres. When  I  was  a  boy  playing  in  Alexan- 
der's Theatre  in  Glasgow,  Scotland,  a  piece 
was  on  in  which  a  robber  figured  prominently. 
A  reward  had  been  offered  for  his  head — a 
well-known  ancient  custom.  He  had  been 
caught,  duly  decapitated,  and  the  head-money 
paid.  At  the  rising  of  the  curtain  for  the  third 
act,  the  ghastly,  dead  head  could  be  seen  on 
the  magistrate's  table.  In  order  to  have  the 
scene  very  realistic,  the  actor  who  had  been 
the  robber  was  hid  under  the  table,  which  had 
a  valance  reaching  to  the  floor,  and  through  a 
hole  cut  in  the  table-top  the  robber's  head 
could  come  up  and  lie  as  naturally  on  it  as  any 


24    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

dead  head.  The  piece  had  had  a  rather  long 
run  and  the  gallery  gods  were  tired  of  it. 
The  table  with  the  head  was  placed  near  the 
front  of  the  stage.  The  aforesaid  gallery  gods 
— creatures  without  a  conscience — procured 
some  very  old,  strong  Scotch  snuff,  and  through 
a  little  blow-pipe  they  easily  blew  the  snuff 
down  towards  the  head.  Oh,  it  was  a  cruel 
sight  to  see  that  poor  dead  head,  with  the  eyes 
closed,  sneeze  and  sneeze  and  sneeze  !  Actu- 
ally in  the  lifting  of  the  head  in  the  sneezing 
act,  we  could  hear  the  poor  fellow's  chin  thump 
the  table  on  the  down-stroke.  That  ended 
the  robber  piece. 

In  the  old  National  Theatre  in  Boston  I  saw 
a  similar  trick  used  to  kill  a  piece.  The  nauti- 
cal drama  of  Black-eyed  Susan  was  having  a 
rather  protracted  run.  "  Sailor  Jones,"  as  he 
was  called,  was  the  great  artist  of  his  day. 
Forty  or  fifty  years  ago  sea-pieces  formed  a 
considerable  proportion  of  the  melodramas  in 
vogue.  Black-eyed  Susan — written  by  Douglas 
Jerrold,  well  known  by  all  lovers  of  the  nau- 
tical drama — has  towards  the  close  of  the 
piece  a  very  affecting  scene  which  generally 
causes  sympathetic  persons  to  shed  tears.  In 
old  times,  people  were  not  so  blase"  as  they  are 
to-day  ;  it  was  not  an  infrequent  thing  to  hear 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    25 

some  tender  soul  sob  right  out.  That  would 
"  start  all  pumps,"  to  use  a  phrase  then  in  use. 
The  boys  in  the  pit  had  got  tired  of  "  Susan." 
In  the  scene  when  tears  began  to  flow  they  put 
up  umbrellas  in  all  directions.  That  caused 
"  Susan  "  and  "  sweet  William  "  to  retire. 

It  maybe  interesting  to  young  people  to  know 
that  the  pit  (following  the  English  custom) 
was  where  the  present  parquet  is.  It  was  level 
and  slightly  lower  than  the  present  floor.  It 
was  a  cheap  part  of  the  house,  mostly  occupied 
by  men  and  boys.  The  first  circle  brought  the 
highest  price ;  the  next  was  like  our  family  cir- 
cle. The  "  third  row  "  had  rather  a  bad  char- 
acter. There  was  a  bar  attached  to  this  row, 
where  liquors  were  sold.  There  was  also  a 
bar  for  the  better  class  somewhere  downstairs. 
It  took  a  deal  of  fighting  to  get  rid  of  the  bars 
and  the  "  third  row." 

Before  ending  my  theatre  recollections  I 
must  devote  a  few  pages  to  the  Viennoise 
Children  and  their  visit  to  Boston  in  1847. 
The  troupe  consisted  of  forty-eight  children,  all 
girls,  whose  ages  ran  from  twelve  years  to 
about  eighteen.  These  girls  were  collected  in 
the  city  of  Vienna  by  Madam  Josephine  Weiss, 
an  old  ballet  mistress  of  one  of  the  theatres. 


26    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

The  children  were  said  to  be  poor  waifs  of  the 
Austrian  capital,  taken  up,  given  a  home,  edu- 
cated, and  provided  for  by  the  old  lady.  From 
the  large  mass  of  children  in  her  care  she  se- 
lected the  shapeliest  and  prettiest  and  taught 
them  to  dance  and  to  do  everything  in  the 
choreographic  art.  The  troupe  had  given 
some  public  exhibitions  in  Vienna,  which  won 
the  admiration  of  the  connoisseurs,  and  was  now 
to  be  turned  to  good  financial  account.  Some 
agency  brought  them  to  Boston  in  a  sailing- 
ship — fifty  to  sixty  days'  voyage  from  Trieste. 
Think  of  the  task  of  caring  for  these  forty-eight 
children  fifty  days  and  nights  on  a  sailing- 
ship  !  They  arrived  safely  in  Boston,  and  were 
boarded  and  lodged  over  "  old  Peter  Brig- 
ham's"  saloon  on  Tremont  Row,  the  second 
house  south  of  Hanover  Street 

I  used  often  to  see  the  children,  marshalled  by 
the  old,  stout  ballet  mistress,  who,  leaning  on 
a  big  stick,  would  give  the  word  "  Vorwarts  ! " 
and  then  they  would  march,  two  and  two,  like 
seminary  girls  going  out  for  a  walk,  over  to 
the  Howard  Atheneum,  where  they  spent  the 
morning  studying  the  art  of  dancing.  It  was 
of  course  their  special  line,  and  the  means  by 
which  they  earned  their  daily  bread. 

When  rehearsing  their  pieces  in  the  theatre, 


AUQUSTE  FRIES. 


Page  105 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    27 

the  old  lady  usually  sat  in  a  chair  on  the  stage 
near  the  orchestra  leader  with  her  big  stick, 
which  was  at  once  her  baton  of  office  and  her 
wherewithal  to  pound  the  stage  while  beating 
time.  She  was  wonderfully  spry  in  her  move- 
ments ;  sometimes  she  would  rush  in  among 
the  children  as  though  she  could  kill  them, 
but  I  never  saw  anything  worse  than  a  seeming 
roughness.  We  must  remember  old  times  and 
European  treatment  of  children  ;  the  adage, 
"  Don't  spare  the  rod  and  spoil  the  child,"  was 
the  rule.  To  the  lookers-on,  these  children 
were  apparently  happy  and  having  a  good 
time. 

A  few  days  after  the  arrival  of  the  troupe 
the  momentous  night  of  opening  came.  Our 
orchestra  had  had  no  rehearsal  with  the  chil- 
dren (but  had  studied  the  music) ;  consequently 
when  the  curtain  was  raised  we  had  our  first 
sight  of  them.  I  must  confess  in  advance  my 
inability  to  describe  the  beauty  of  their  per- 
formance. It  was  simply  ideal.  The  opening 
dance  was  the  "  Pas  des  Fleurs,"  music  by  Max 
Maretzek, — then  an  unknown  name  in  Amer- 
ica ;  he  came  over  from  Europe  a  few  years 
later.  The  dance  consisted  of  andante  intro- 
duction, a  set  of  five  waltzes,  and  a  lengthy 
finale.  When  the  curtain  rose,  the  children 


28    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

were  seen  to  be  built  up,  about  thirty  of  them, 
in  the  form  of  a  huge  bouquet,  round  which 
were  two  garlands  or  rings  of  flowers  (children) 
that  swung  slowly  around  the  middle  mass. 
Then  the  latter  disentangled  themselves  and 
spread  out  on  the  stage  in  bunches,  and 
the  animated  movement  began.  Every  kind 
of  figure  was  made  by  groups  of  children, — 
swinging  stars,  chains,  threading  needles,  and 
dancing  round  the  May-pole,  which  with  its 
long  colored  ribbons  remained  on  the  centre 
of  the  stage.  The  music  was  good.  Each 
waltz  had  its  appropriate  dancing  figures. 
The  finale  brought  all  into  a  wild,  whirling, 
passionate  movement,  and  it  seemed  to  us  at 
times  as  if  the  whole  thing  must  go  to  pieces ; 
but  the  artistic  plan  was  perfectly  carried  out. 
The  "pleasures  of  memory"  were  never  more 
thoroughly  realized  by  any  one  than  by  me  at 
this  moment  of  writing  ;  after  a  lapse  of  over 
fifty  years,  the  picture  of  the  dancing  children 
is  before  me  in  its  living,  pulsating  shape. 

The  whole  audience  was  seemingly  in  ecstasy 
with  the  performance.  The  happy,  bright 
faces  and  the  gleeful  play  of  the  children 
stirred  up  the  deepest  emotions  of  the  specta- 
tors. Many  people  were  in  tears.  I  know 
that  the  old  oboist  at  my  elbow  did  not  play 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     29 

many  notes  during  the  early  part  of  the  waltz, 
for  tears  ran  down  his  face  like  rain.  When 
the  dance  finally  ended  and  the  curtain  fell, 
the  audience  was  in  a  kind  of  emotional  insan- 
ity, and  gave  vent  to  it  in  wild  applause.  The 
scenes  were  so  wonderfully  beautiful,  and  so 
unlike  anything  before  witnessed  by  a  majority 
of  the  audience,  that  they  felt  as  if  they  had 
had  a  dream  or  vision  of  Paradise. 

During  the  stay  of  the  children  they  per- 
formed many  lovely  fairy  ballets  in  two  or 
three  acts,  in  which  the  fascinating  story  was 
told  by  pantomimic  action  and  dancing.  One 
of  their  most  remarkable  pieces  was  termed 
the  "  Mirror  Dance."  Imagine  a  fine,  apparently 
seamless  lace  curtain  let  down  from  the  flies  to 
the  stage,  about  on  a  line  with  the  second  en- 
trance, embracing  its  entire  width  and  height. 
Around  this  net  was  a  gilt  border  or  frame 
which  made  the  whole  resemble  a  mirror,  all 
the  more  perfectly  because  the  stage  behind 
the  lace  was  in  darkness. 

The  green  curtain  rises.  The  play  begins. 
The  children  who  perform  represent  an  equal 
number  of  boys  and  girls.  One  or  two  couples 
shyly  stray  onto  the  stage  in  front,  and  there 
are  exactly  similar  figures  and  movements  on 
the  inner  side  of  the  lace  curtain.  The  front 


30    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

couples  discover  themselves  reflected  in  the 
mirror  ;  they  are  frightened  and  jump  back — 
the  rear  ones  of  course  doing  the  same.  The 
children  on  both  sides,  in  shape,  dress,  and  ac- 
tion, are  such  perfect  counterparts  that  the 
effect  is  precisely  as  if  done  in  front  of  a  real 
mirror.  This  little  tentative  work  is  repeated 
a  few  times,  but  finding  that  the  reflection 
does  not  harm  them  they  fear  it  no  more  ;  they 
grow  bold  ;  they  come  on  in  larger  numbers  ; 
they  look  in  the  mirror,  admiring  themselves 
and  their  graceful  movements,  meanwhile  go- 
ing through  with  many  comical  performances. 
Remembering  that  everything  done  before  the 
lace  curtain  is  duplicated  behind  it,  we  can  see 
that  the  effect  would  be  wonderful  and  beauti- 
ful. The  thing  could  only  be  accomplished 
where  girls  in  large  numbers  could  be  selected, 
matched,  and  taught  with  most  patient  in- 
dustry. 

I  cannot  say  what  became  of  the  company 
after  it  left  Boston.  We  had  no  Dramatic 
Mirror  in  those  days. 


CHAPTER  IV 

IN  my  early  years  in  Boston,  foreign  artists, 
singers,  and  players,  came  to  the  United 
States  pretty  much  as  they  come  now,  but  rel- 
atively in  smaller  numbers.     Boston  was  even 
then  quite  a  Mecca  for  instrumentalists. 

Among  those  who  made  the  greatest  im- 
pression on  me  were  three  genuine  artists 
who  formed  a  little  company, — Sivori,  violinist, 
Knoop,  violoncellist,  Henry  Herz,  pianist. 
The  latter  was  spoken  of  with  great  acclaim  by 
the  newspapers  as  the  composer  of  variations 
on  Home,  Sweet  Home.  His  position  was 
thereby  fixed  at  the  top  round  of  the  art  ladder. 
He  did  play  his  own  compositions  quite  neatly, 
also  those  of  Rosellen  and  kindred  composers, 
and  I  was  present  when  he  took  part  in  a  piano 
trio  by  Haydn  ;  but  I  fear  his  playing  would 
not  pass  muster  in  these  days.  The  'cellist, 
Knoop,  was  of  the  regulation  pattern  of  well- 
trained  virtuosi,  who  could  play  the  elder 
Romberg's  compositions.  But  Sivori  was 
really  a  master  violinist — an  advance  Wieni- 

31 


32    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

awski,  without  the  latter's  ability  to  compose 
violin  music.  Sivori  had  a  marvellous  tech- 
nique. He  had  been  the  only  pupil  and  pro- 
tege of  Paganini,  and  he  played  on  the  latter's 
famous  Stradivarius,  left  by  will  to  him. 

In  the  summer  of  '88,  I  spent  a  part  of  the 
season  in  Paris.  Sivori  was  still  alive,  and, 
like  the  majority  of  artists  who  lead  the  lives 
of  virtuosi,  had  made  Paris  his  home.  I  de- 
termined to  do  myself  the  honor  of  calling  on 
him,  and  had  an  opportunity  to  do  so  in  com- 
pany with  a  Boston  friend  who  knew  him  well. 
Sivori  was  living  on  the  fourth  or  fifth  story  of 
a  very  modest  hotel,  having  a  single  room,  with 
space  for  an  upright  piano  and  an  alcove  for 
his  bed.  It  was  a  charming,  cosy  little  room, 
just  such  a  one  as  the  majority  of  bachelor 
artists  occupy  in  Paris,  no  matter  how  ample 
their  income ;  and  in  these  quarters  they  re- 
ceive the  visits  of  princes  and  people  of  the 
haute  noblesse. 

I  let  my  friend,  who  was  intimate  with  Sivori, 
do  the  talking  for  some  time,  while  I  watched 
all  the  artist's  motions.  He  was  a  rather  small- 
sized  man,  and  had  very  small  hands  for  a 
violinist,  at  which  I  marvelled,  for  his  distinc- 
tion was  based  on  his  being  a  Paganini  player ; 
and  we  all  know  that  the  music  of  that  com- 


CAMILLE  SIVORI. 


Page  31 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    33 

poser  requires  the  fingers  of  a  prestidigitator. 
As  we  progressed  in  our  call  I  nudged  my  friend 
(according  to  previous  agreement)  to  tell 
Sivori  I  was  a  member  of  the  Mendels- 
sohn Quintette  Club  of  Boston,  and  that  I 
wanted  very  much  to  see  the  famous  "  Strad," 
the  inheritance  from  Paganini.  Sivori  was 
amiability  itself. 

I  should  have  said  at  the  start  that  he  was 
preparing  to  sally  forth  for  his  dejeuner  when 
we  called,  but  he  did  not  hesitate  to  receive 
us,  though  he  was  at  the  moment  in  the  most 
unconventional  of  costumes.  He  was  the  gen- 
tleman and  don  camarade  from  first  to  last. 

Sivori  took  out  the  violin  from  its  case.  It 
was  a  perfect  "  Kohinoor "  of  an  instrument, 
just  the  right  color,  and  perfectly  preserved, — 
not  a  scratch  or  a  crack, — with  the  great  seal  of 
red  sealing-wax  on  the  under  part  of  the  violin 
where  the  neck  begins.  I  told  Mr.  Sivori 
that  I  heard  him  in  his  first  concert  given  in 
the  old  Masonic  Temple  in  Boston  (where  R. 
H.  Stearns  &  Co.'s  store  now  is),  that  I  was 
an  enthusiastic  boy  at  the  time,  and  that  his 
playing  had  made  such  an  impression  on  me 
that  I  could  name  the  pieces  he  played  in  that 
concert,  though  there  was  an  interim  of  about 
forty  years.  I  named  them, — the  E-flat  concerto 


34    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

(his  own  composition),  La  Campanile  by  Paga- 
nini,  and  the  Most  in  Egitto,  also  by  Paganini. 

The  old  artist  opened  his  bookcase,  took 
out  a  book  containing  an  itinerary  of  musi- 
cal tourne'es  made  in  his  younger  days,  and 
turned  at  once  to  Boston.  I  had  named  the 
pieces  exactly,  and  he  was  highly  pleased. 
He  played  for  us  a  great  deal,  and  it  was  a 
joy  to  hear  the  tone  of  that  violin  ;  it  was  also 
impossible  not  to  be  affected  by  the  sentiment 
connected  with  it.  Paganini's  violin  !  the  in- 
strument of  that  strange  and  wonderful  player, 
the  wizard  of  the  concert  stage,  who  had  con- 
quered all  musical  Europe. 

My  friend  and  I  began  to  feel  that  we  must 
not  prolong  our  visit,  but  Sivori  wanted  to 
show  us  his  numerous  presents  received  from 
kings  and  courts.  He  told  us  some  very  funny 
stories,  one  of  which  I  will  repeat. 

The  famous  impresario,  Ulman,  well  known 
in  America,  had  engaged  four  of  the  greatest 
living  violinists  for  a  little  concert  trip.  It 
was  arranged  that  at  their  concerts  these  vir- 
tuosi should  each  play  a  solo  and  then  play 
together  the  well-known  concerto  for  four 
violins  by  Maurer.  One  night  Sivori  was 
greatly  dissatisfied  with  the  trill  he  had  made 
in  the  famous  Trill  du  Diable  by  Tartini. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    35 

Leonard,  an  equally  famous  violinist,  and  he 
were  sharing  a  very  large  room  in  the  hotel. 
Sivori  was  nervous  and  could  not  sleep.  The 
trill  haunted  him ;  he  got  out  of  bed,  partly 
dressed  himself,  took  out  his  fiddle,  put  a  mute 
on  it,  and,  going  to  the  remotest  corner  from 
where  Leonard  lay  peacefully  sleeping,  he  be- 
gan practising  the  trill  in  the  softest  pianissimo. 
Doubtless  he  made  a  peculiar,  scratchy,  mouse- 
nibbling  kind  of  noise,  and  it  awoke  Leonard, 
who,  thinking  it  was  a  mouse,  reached  out  for 
one  of  his  boots  and  fired  it  at  the  corner  in 
order  to  scare  away  the  supposed  mouse.  It 
was  a  good  shot,  for  it  hit  Sivori  in  the  middle 
of  the  back,  causing  an  outcry  which  prevented 
Leonard  from  making  a  second  shot.  The 
two  comrades  had  something  to  laugh  over  for 
quite  a  while. 

To  return  to  the  fact  that  I  had  been  able 
to  name  the  pieces  played  by  Sivori  after  so 
long  an  interim :  it  may  seem  extraordinary. 
It  is,  and  yet  is  not.  I  argue  that  any  young 
lawyer  who  heard  Daniel  Webster  or  Rufus 
Choate  speak  for  the  first  time  would  remem- 
ber to  the  end  of  his  days  the  subject  of 
cither's  oratory. 

In  the  summer  of  1847,  we  had  a  visit  from 


36    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

a  very  complete  Italian  opera  troupe.  At 
that  period  of  Boston's  social  history,  it  was 
not  the  fashion  to  leave  the  city  for  the  sum- 
mer ;  therefore  the  citizens  were  as  eager  to 
welcome  a  good  entertainment  in  summer  as 
in  winter. 

This  Havana  troupe  was  notable  for  its 
corps  of  fine  singers,  among  them  being  some 
of  the  world's  foremost  artists.  Tedesco,  the 
soprano,  was  truly  a  great  dramatic  singer. 
After  the  Boston  season  was  over,  she  went  to 
Paris,  and  easily  won  the  first  place  in  all 
European  opera  houses.  Then  there  was 
Vita,  the  contralto,  a  splendid  singer,  second 
only  to  Alboni.  Then  came  Perelli,  the  tenor, 
who  was  a  fine  singer,  a  thorough  musician, 
and  a  remarkable  pianist.  This  artist  after 
leaving  Boston  made  his  home  in  Philadelphia. 
There  was  also  Novelli,  a  magnificent  basso, 
who  became  well  known  in  Boston,  as  he  visited 
that  city  many  times  subsequently. 

The  opera  had  a  good  effective  chorus,  and 
a  complete  orchestra,  with  Arditi  (afterward 
so  well  known)  as  maestro,  or  conductor,  and 
first  violin, — it  being  the  custom  in  those  days 
for  the  leader  to  beat  time  with  his  bow, 
playing  on  his  violin  when  he  desired  to  assist 
or  to  animate  his  men.  This  fashion  still  pre- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    37 

vails  in  many  parts  of  the  world.  Johann 
Strauss,  the  famous  waltz  composer,  played 
the  violin  when  conducting  his  compositions 
in  the  second  Gilmore  Jubilee.  His  brother 
Eduard,  who  more  recently  visited  this  coun- 
try with  his  own  orchestra,  conducted  in  the 
same  way.  I  must  not  omit  to  say  that  Ar- 
diti  was  a  true  virtuoso  on  the  violin. 

To  return  to  our  little  history  of  the  Havana 
Opera  Company.  They  had  for  contrabasso 
the  world-renowned  Bottesini,  a  veritable 
Paganini  on  his  big  instrument.  The  troupe 
performed  but  three  times  per  week.  That 
also  was  the  prevailing  custom  of  the  day. 

The  company  supported  itself  on  those  three 
performances,  and  yet  the  prices  of  admission 
were  only  fifty  cents  and  one  dollar ;  the 
former  admitting  to  the  gallery.  We  can  in- 
fer that  the  honorariums  to  the  artist  were 
modest  in  comparison  to  those  of  the  present 
day.  It  may  be  added  that  their  social  stand- 
ing was  quite  different  from  what  it  is  now. 
Most  of  them  lived  in  the  Pemberton  Hotel, 
adjoining  the  theatre,  and  it  was  certainly  a 
hotel  of  modest  pretension. 

It  was  customary  for  the  troupe  to  give  con- 
certs in  the  theatre  on  Saturday  evenings,  on 
which  occasions  Arditi  and  Bottesini  played 


38    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

solos.  On  one  of  those  evenings  a  very  droll 
incident  occurred.  While  Arditi  was  per- 
forming a  violin  solo  on  the  stage,  a  gentleman 
in  the  balcony  nearest  the  stage  became  so  ex- 
cited over  Arditi's  tours  de  force  that  in  order 
to  manifest  his  approbation  he  resorted  to  a 
most  extraordinary  device.  He  began  by 
throwing  his  white  kid  gloves  at  Arditi's  feet, 
then  his  light  walking-cane,  and  finally  his  hat. 
I  forget  whether  his  coat  and  vest  did  or  did 
not  follow  ;  certainly  it  seems  as  if  that  would 
have  been  a  natural  sequence.  At  this  junc- 
ture a  couple  of  ushers  came  upon  the  scene, 
and  great  applause  and  cheering  went  up  from 
the  audience ;  but  whether  for  Arditi  or  his 
admirer  in  the  balcony  I  cannot  say.  For  a 
long  time,  "  Oh,  take  my  hat !  "  was  a  popular 
slang  phrase. 

About  a  dozen  years  ago  I  called  on  Mr. 
Arditi  in  New  York,  on  his  return  to  America 
as  director  with  Madame  Patti.  When  my 
card  was  handed  him  he  was  talking  with  a 
number  of  brother  artists.  I  was  politely  re- 
ceived, and  introduced  to  the  gentlemen  ;  and 
after  a  few  minutes  of  conversation  with  Ar- 
diti I  asked  him  if  he  remembered  the  scene 
in  the  Howard  Theatre  when  the  man  in  the 
balcony  began  throwing  his  outfit  on  the  stage. 


ALLEN  T.  BROWN. 


Page  iit 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    39 

The  moment  I  put  the  question  he  recalled  the 
incident  with  great  amusement ;  and,  with  a 
zest  and  volubility  possessed  only  by  Italians, 
retold  the  story  to  the  artists  present,  who 
greeted  it  with  outbursts  of  laughter. 

Returning  again  to  the  Havana  Opera  Com- 
pany, there  was  a  story  current  (remember 
that  humbug  is  as  old  as  the  world  and  that 
skilful  agents  were  even  then  industriously 
"  working  up  business  "  )  that  Marti,  the  man- 
ager, had  been  for  many  years  a  terror  to  the 
island  of  Cuba,  and  indeed  to  the  entire  West 
India  Islands,  as  pirate  and  smuggler,  a 
veritable  buccaneer — a  kind  of  man  who  really 
once  existed  in  the  flesh  ;  nor  is  it  so  very 
many  years  ago  since  gentry  of  his  kind 
operated  in  all  the  southern  waters.  To  the 
city  of  Havana  Marti  was  a  pest.  No  vessel 
could  go  in  or  out  of  the  harbor  without  pay- 
ing tribute  to  him.  The  Governor-General  of 
Cuba  offered  a  large  reward  for  Marti's  head, 
dead  or  alive.  The  reward  did  not  bring  the 
head.  There  was  no  change  for  a  long  time 
in  the  pestiferous  ways  of  Marti. 

Finally  an  envoy  of  his  reached  the  Gov- 
ernor with  a  message  to  the  effect  that  Marti 
was  tired  of  his  profession  and  wished  to  make 
the  following  proposition : 


40    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

He,  Marti,  would  give  up  his  terrible  trade, 
destroy  all  other  pirates  in  the  vicinity,  and 
become  a  good  citizen  of  the  city  of  Havana, 
if  they  would  pardon  him  in  full  for  all  previ- 
ous misdeeds.  By  way  of  proper  compensa- 
tion for  the  loss  of  so  profitable  a  business, 
he  hoped  the  Governor  would  allow  him  the 
monopoly  of  the  fresh-fish  trade  of  the  city  of 
Havana.  Such  a  monopoly  in  a  large  Catho- 
lic community  means  a  great  fortune.  As  a 
quid  pro  quo,  Marti  would  support,  for  a  term 
of  years,  an  Italian  opera  company  made  up  of 
the  finest  artists,  without  any  subvention  from 
the  government  or  aristocracy  of  the  island. 

The  proposition  was  disdained  at  first  and 
the  piracy  was  continued.  Eventually  a  com- 
promise was  effected  ;  the  free  opera  was  too 
tempting  a  bait  not  to  be  eagerly  swallowed 
by  people  of  the  Spanish  and  Cuban  tempera- 
ment. Marti  opened  the  fish-market,  carried 
out  all  his  promises,  and  became  a  law-abiding 
citizen.  In  due  time  he  collected  a  bona  fide 
opera  troupe,  which  delighted  the  citizens  of 
Havana  for  years. 

Something  inspired  Marti  to  bring  his  troupe 
to  Boston.  They  came  from  Cuba  in  a  sailing 
vessel,  and  gave  opera  at  the  Howard  Theatre 
for  about  two  months  during  two  consecutive 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    41 

summers.  The  average  of  the  performances 
was  good.  The  operas  were  by  Verdi,  Bellini, 
Donizetti,  Mercadante,  Rossini — all  up-to-date 
Italian  works.  The  troupe  was  well  sup- 
ported, being  a  great  novelty  and  delight  to 
Bostonians  ;  it  was  also  the  advance-guard  of 
the  many  opera  troupes  afterward  brought  to 
our  city  by  enterprising  managers. 

Is  there  not  a  tempting  chance  here  for 
some  lover  of  that  side  of  the  art  to  write  a 
brief  history  of  the  various  opera  troupes  which 
have  visited  this  country  ?  They  have  done 
their  share  of  inculcating  a  taste  for  music. 

For  a  while  opera  meant  Italian  music  only  ; 
then,  with  Martha  and  Stradella,  came  a 
sprinkling  of  the  lighter  class  of  German 
operas.  The  mixture  was  healthy  and  pre- 
pared our  people  for  the  greater  things  yet  to 
come.  Finally  the  red-letter  day  dawned  which 
brought  me  a  degree  of  happiness  that  I  shall 
never  forget.  Max  Maretzek  had  an  opera 
troupe  in  the  Federal  Street  Theatre.  He 
brought  out  Mozart's  Don  Giovanni,  with  the 
fine  singer  Bosio  as  "  Zerlini."  Perhaps  my 
pleasure  was  heightened  by  the  fact  that  the 
director  used  my  score.  The  copy  is  one 
of  the  earliest  published,  with  the  German 
title-page,  Don  Juan ;  or,  The  Stone  Ghost ;  a 


42    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Comic  Opera  in  Two  Acts.  Some  few  years 
later,  Fidelio,  by  Beethoven,  was  performed 
in  the  Boston  Theatre,  and  at  last  we  heard 
the  finest  music-dramas ;  and  probably  no 
greater  enjoyment  will  ever  be  derived  from 
any  future  performance  of  them  than  we  got 
from  that  first  one.  Of  that  I  am  satisfied. 


CHAPTER  V 

IN  my  early  days  in  Boston,  series  of  con- 
certs were  given  in  the  Federal  Street 
Theatre,  on  the  corner  of  Franklin  Street,  by 
the  so-called  Boston  Academy  of  Music.  There 
was  always  a  goodly  number  of  music-lovers  in 
Boston, — and  we  cannot  give  too  much  credit 
to  the  pioneers  who  did  the  ploughing  and 
seeding  of  musical  taste.  "  The  Boston  Acad- 
emy of  Music  "  was  formed  and  named  in  1833, 
by  Messrs.  William  C.  Woodbridge,  Lowell 
Mason,  and  a  few  kindred  souls,  who  laid  out 
this  ambitious  but  beneficent  programme  : 

1.  To  establish  schools  of  vocal  music  and 
juvenile  classes. 

2.  To  establish  similar  classes  for  adults. 

3.  To  form  a  class  for   instruction   in   the 
methods  of  teaching  music. 

4.  To  form  an  association  of  choristers  and 
leading  members  of  choirs  for  the  purpose  of 
improvement  in  church  music. 

5.  To  establish  a  course  of  popular  lectures 
on  the  nature  and  object  of  church  music. 

43 


44    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

6.  To  have  scientific  lectures. 

7.  To  give  exhibition  concerts. 

8.  To  introduce  vocal  music  into  schools. 

9.  To  publish  circulars  and  essays. 

The  Academy,  after  a  few  years  of  action  on 
this  basis,  resolved  itself  into  an  organization 
of  music-lovers  and  amateur  instrumentalists, 
assisted  by  professionals,  making  an  orchestra 
of  perhaps  forty,  and  gave  concerts. 

The  programmes  were  of  very  mixed  music, 
but  aspiring  to  the  best.  Beethoven's  Fifth 
Symphony  was  brought  out  by  them  for  the 
first  time  in  Boston.  Each  programme  was  gen- 
erally made  up  of  a  French  opera  overture,  one 
or  two  instrumental  solos  by  members  of  the  or- 
chestra or  strangers,  a  movement  from  an  easy 
symphony,  a  potpourri,  and  a  few  vocal  pieces. 

The  President  of  the  Society,  at  the  time  of 
which  I  am  writing,  was  Gen.  B.  F.  Ed- 
mands,  a  most  amiable  man  and  an  efficient 
worker.  I  was  engaged  by  him  as  one  of  the 
second  violins.  He  saw  that  I  was  an  ambi- 
tious boy,  and  took  a  fancy  to  me.  That  am- 
bition got  me  into  a  little  trouble  later  on,  and 
was  the  cause  of  a  bit  of  musical  history  of  the 
times  worth  recording. 

Before  coming  to  Boston  I  had  played  second 
clarinet  in  the  Dublin  (Ireland)  Philharmonic 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    45 

Society.  In  the  season  of  1844-45,  that  Society 
brought  out  the  Scotch  Symphony  and  the 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream  overture,  by  Men- 
delssohn. When  I  made  the  acquaintance  of 
General  Edmands,  I  took  the  liberty  of  telling 
him  that  Mendelssohn's  music  was  in  great  fa- 
vor in  Europe,  and  urged  him  to  get  the  above 
works.  They  were  sent  for.  When  received, 
it  was  discovered  that  no  score  had  come. 

We  must  remember  that  fifty  years  ago 
there  were  not  many  professional  musicians  of 
sufficient  technical  ability  to  cope  with  Men- 
delssohn's music,  which  even  to-day  is  classified 
as  difficult.  Our  orchestra  was  made  up  half 
of  amateurs  and  half  of  professionals.  We  could 
have  no  lightning-express  trains  in  tempo; 
most  music  was  played  tempo  commodo.  All 
trains  were  accommodation  trains.  "  Music 
was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  music." 
Those  were  the  governing  principles,  and  in 
general  furnished  the  motive  power. 

One  other  point  to  remember  is  the  fact  that 
in  old  days  an  overture  generally  meant  a  big, 
noisy,  pompous,  slam-bang  affair,  intended  for 
a  curtain-raiser  to  an  opera, — a  certain  festive 
noise  to  be  made  while  people  were  tumbling 
into  their  seats,  or  looking  around  to  see  who 
had  come,  etc.  This  type  of  overture  was  the 


46    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

only  one  the  average  player  had  any  acquaint- 
ance with  ;  indeed,  in  point  of  history,  we  must 
not  overlook  the  fact  that  Mendelssohn  was 
the  creator  of  the  so-called  romantic  overture, 
under  which  head  come  FingaVs  Cave,  Calm 
Sea,  Ruy  Bias,  etc.  Therefore,  when  I  say 
that  the  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  was  taken 
up  for  the  first  time  by  our  orchestra,  all  cul- 
tured persons  who  are  familiar  with  that  deli- 
cate, fairy-like  composition  may  well  smile  to 
think  that  any  but  experts  should  attempt  the 
difficult  feat  of  playing  it. 

Well,  we  tried  it.  Our  conductor  was  Mr. 
Geo.  J.  Webb, — an  excellent  general  musician, 
but  who  had  never  heard  the  overture.  He 
began  by  telling  us  that  he  had  no  score ;  so 
he  stood  up  alongside  of  the  first-violin  desk 
and  prepared  to  conduct.  Rapping  on  the 
desk,  he  gave  the  signal  to  begin ;  out  piped 
two  flutes, — nothing  else.  He  rapped  again, 
implying  that  the  players  had  not  been  ready 
to  begin ;  then  he  said,  "  We  will  try  again." 
He  gave  the  signal — and  out  piped  the  two 
flutes.  That  caused  a  little  titter  of  surprise,  and 
we  all  looked  quizzically  at  each  other.  Mr. 
Webb,  however,  dutifully  gave  the  signal  for 
the  next  "hold  "  or  chord,  when  two  clarinets 
joined  the  two  flutes !  More  surprise.  At 


GEORGE  JAMES  WEBB. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    47 

the  third  hold  (chord)  the  fagotti  and  horns 
were  added,  and  at  the  fourth  hold  (chord)  the 
entire  wood  and  wind  instruments,  all  sounding 
most  distressingly  out  of  tune.  This  dissonant 
and  unlooked-for  result  was  followed  by  a  dead 
pause  ;  then  every  one  of  the  players  broke  out 
with  a  hearty  laugh  of  derision. 

I  was  on  pins  and  needles  and  muttered, 
"  Go  on,  go  on ! "  After  a  while  the  people 
sobered  down,  and  we  tried  to  commence  with 
the  string  part.  The  first  and  second  violins 
(each  relative  part  divided  into  two  parts) 
began  at  an  "  accommodation-train "  tempo. 
At  the  end  of  the  violin  passage,  the  wood  and 
wind  again  held  a  very  dissonant  chord  for 
two  measures,  which  this  time  sounded  so 
abominably  out  of  tune  that  it  really  was  as 
bad  as  if  each  man  played  any  note  he  pleased  ; 
and  it  was  so  irresistibly  funny  that  again 
everybody  burst  out  laughing.  But  I  buried 
my  head  under  the  music  desk  and  cried  ;  my 
idol  was  derided,  every  one  poked  fun  at  me. 

That  last  dissonant  chord  ended  the  first 
rehearsal  of  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream 
overture.  We  never  tried  it  again. 

Time,  however,  set  me  right.  A  few  years 
later,  the  Germania  Musical  Society  visited 
Boston.  The  Germania  was  a  fine  orchestra 


48    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

of  about  thirty  artists,  and  every  one  could 
play  well  his  part.  Their  first  concert  was 
given  on  April  i4th.  Their  piece  de  resistance 
was  the  overture  to  Midsummer  Nights  Dream, 
and  it  was  beautifully  played.  So  I  had  my .» 
revenge  and  could  poke  fun  at  my  fellow- 
players  by  saying,  "  Now  you  can  hear  what 
Mendelssohn  is  as  a  composer."  (The  overture 
was  written  in  1826,  when  he  was  only  seven- 
teen years  old,  as  everybody  should  know.) 

This   is  the  programme   of  the  Germania 
concert : 

1.  OVERTURE  TO  "  ZAMPA  "          ...      fftrold. 

2.  WALTZ,  "  The  Pesther "  .         .         .        .      Lanner. 

3.  FANTAISIE  FOR  VIOLIN     ....        Ernst. 

MR.  WM.  SCHULTZE. 

4.  BETTY  POLKA  ......  Lenschow. 

5.  OVERTURE,  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream," 

Mendelssohn. 

6.  VARIATIONS  ON  Swiss  AIR  FOR  THE  FLUTE, 

Bochm. 
MR.  PFEIFFER. 

7.  FINALE,  "  Siege  of  Corinth "     .        .        .      Rossini. 

8.  FESTIVAL  OVERTURE,  Dedicated  to  the  President  of 

the  United  States,  General  Taylor       .  Lenschow. 

9.  WALTZ,  "  Sounds  from  the  Heart  "  .         .      Strauss. 
10.  PANORAMA   OF    BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK.     "  A  de- 
scriptive potpourri,  received    with    the   greatest 
applause   by  large   and  fashionable   audiences," 
arranged  by Lenschow. 


CHAPTER  VI 

JAM  well  aware  that  I  am  not  writing  quite  in 
chronological  order.  I  never  kept  notes, 
and  do  not  know  a  person  who  can  set  me  right 
if  I  put  anything  on  record  awry.  I  am  al- 
most the  last  of  the  "  old  guard."  I  was  for 
many  years  the  youngest  musician  in  Boston  ; 
now  perhaps  I  am  the  oldest,  and  still  in 
harness.  I  can  make  a  fair  record,  in  substance, 
of  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  different  societies, 
and  that  is  about  all  the  value  which  can  be 
attached  to  it. 

Contemporary  with  the  Academy  of  Music 
was  the  Philharmonic  Society.  The  former 
was  under  the  guidance  of  men  like  Mr. 
Geo.  J.  Webb,  Mr.  Lowell  Mason,  Mr. 
Woodbridge,  Mr.  John  S.  Dwight,  and  Gen. 
B.  F.  Edmands.  The  Philharmonic  was,  I 
think,  a  younger  society,  with  Mr.  Edward 
Riddle  as  President, — a  well-known  amateur 
flute-player,  father  of  Mr.  Geo.  Riddle,  the 
elocutionist.  The  musical  director  was  Mr. 
Schmidt, — a  good  musician  and  a  violin  vir- 

49 


50    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

tuoso.  I  think  that  each  society  had  from  four 
to  six  years  of  life  before  it  went  to  pieces. 

On  the  ruins  of  these  two  societies  was 
organized  and  incorporated  "  The  Musical 
Fund  Society  "  in  the  year  1852.  It  was  com- 
posed exclusively  of  professionals,  and  was  the 
first  society  so  organized  in  Boston.  It  was  char- 
tered by  the  State  of  Massachusetts  and  em- 
powered to  hold  property  to  a  certain  amount 
and  to  give  concerts  in  aid  of  sick  members. 
The  chief  officers  were  members  of  the  Society, 
but  there  was  a  board  of  directors  and  coun- 
cil of  advice  chosen  from  the  most  active  and 
prominent  music  supporters,  perhaps  seventy- 
five  in  number. 

The  Society  began  its  concerts  in  the  old 
Melodeon  Hall,  where  Keith's  Theatre  now 
stands,  next  door  to  the  Boston  Theatre.  The 
finances  were  managed  on  the  co-operative 
plan  ;  that  is,  there  was  an  equal  division  of 
the  profits,  the  man  at  the  drums  getting 
just  as  much  as  the  leader  of  the  violins.  The 
director  received  no  pay,  the  honor  being 
considered  a  sufficient  reward.  Soloists  who 
were  members  of  the  Society  received  an 
honorarium  of  fifteen  dollars. 

The  "  rise  and  fall "  in  the  history  of  all 
such  societies  is  so  monotonously  similar  that 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    51 

one  grows  weary  of  writing  about  it.  The 
Musical  Fund,  which  was  no  exception  to  the 
rule,  started  off  with  flying  colors  and  a  large 
subscription,  every  one  rushing  to  put  their 
names  on  the  list.  The  orchestra,  which  num- 
bered about  fifty  players,  did  fairly  good  work 
for  the  times.  The  symphonies  played  were 
by  Pleyel,  Haydn,  and  Kalliwoda  ;  also  the  easy 
ones  of  Mozart  and  the  early  ones  of  Beethoven. 
Every  musical  person  can  imagine  the  kind  of 
music  given.  The  orchestra  had  the  assistance 
of  vocal  soloists,  both  foreign  and  native. 

The  first  two  seasons'  concerts  were  given 
in  the  Melodeon.  This  hall,  which  held  about 
nine  hundred  and  was  admirable  for  sound, 
proved  to  be  too  small  to  hold  the  audiences, 
so  the  Society  moved  to  the  Tremont  Temple, 
which  accommodated  about  fifteen  hundred 
persons.  After  a  few  seasons  of  popularity 
there  was  a  falling  off  in  the  attendance,  fol- 
lowed by  two  seasons  that  ended  without  any 
money  to  divide  ;  but  we  kept  on  all  the  same, 
for  we  had  not  formed  the  Society  to  make 
money,  but  rather  to  improve  ourselves  in  the 
art  of  music.  A  good  many  small  gifts  of 
money  came  from  patrons,  and  the  munificent 
sum  of  a  thousand  dollars  was  contributed  by 
Jenny  Lind. 


52    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

The  Society  gave  concerts  for  about  six 
years,  but  was  plainly  moribund.  The  Ger- 
mania  Musical  Society,  which  had  been  in 
Boston  for  two  seasons,  really  gave  the  coup  de 
grdce  to  the  Musical  Fund  Society  by  its  fine 
orchestra  and  its  superior  performances. 

Our  Society,  having  resolved  to  give  no  more 
concerts,  was  changed  into  a  benefit  organiza- 
tion. The  money  in  the  treasury  was  liberally 
paid  out  to  sick  members  or  for  funeral  ex- 
penses, and  in  donations  to  widows  ;  one  after 
another  the  members  dropped  out,  and  when 
the  money  was  gone,  all  was  over. 

Many  of  my  pleasantest  memories  are  con- 
nected with  the  workings  of  the  Fund  Society. 
Mr.  Webb  was  the  first  conductor,  followed 
by  "  old  Tom  Comer."  The  latter,  a  charac- 
ter in  Boston,  was  well  known  and  beloved. 
He  was  of  Irish  extraction  and  originally  an 
actor.  He  had  a  passion  for  music — could 
compose  a  little,  played  the  violin  tolerably 
well,  was  leader  of  an  orchestra  in  the  Boston 
Museum  for  many  years,  and  afterwards  in  the 
Boston  Theatre.  He  was  just  the  man  for 
the  times, — popular  on  all  sides,  "  hand  and 
glove  "  with  every  one,  as  the  old  saying  went, 
and  was  a  valuable  president  for  the  Fund 
Society. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     53 

One  of  his  financial  appeals  in  behalf  of  the 
Society  is  worth  putting  on  record.  He  de- 
cided to  perform  Haydn's  Farewell  Symphony. 
To  explain  the  origin  and  character  of  this 
piece  of  music  I  must  give  a  bit  of  history. 

In  the"  good  old  days"  our  grandfathers 
used  to  talk  about,  when  kings,  princes,  and  pre- 
lates of  the  European  states  were  leeching  the 
life-blood  out  of  the  people,  every  aristocratic 
worthy  lived  on  a  big,  showy  scale,  surrounded 
by  a  large  retinue  of  followers,  including  mu- 
sicians. Every  grandee  had  his  own  orchestra, 
or  its  equivalent  on  a  somewhat  lesser  scale. 
The  most  famous  composers  and  musicians  of 
the  day  were  in  the  service  of  some  prince  or  no- 
bleman. For  them  no  other  life  was  possible  ; 
if  they  did  not  have  the  patronage,  or  were  not 
under  the  wing,  of  the  high  and  mighty,  they 
had  no  way  nor  right  to  live.  Mozart  served 
for  a  while  with  the  Bishop  of  Salzburg,  and 
Haydn  served  his  long  life  with  Prince  Ester- 
hazy.  To  this  unfortunate,  or  perhaps  fortu- 
nate system,  as  we  choose  to  look  at  it,  may  be 
attributed  the  marvellous  amount  of  chamber 
music  written  by  those  composers.  New 
work  for  the  entertainment  of  guests  must  be 
always  forthcoming. 

It  happened  that  at  one  period  in  the  life  of 


54    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Esterhazy  his  finances  were  in  a  pinched  con- 
dition, and  he  had  determined  to  discharge  a 
goodly  portion  of  his  orchestra.  That  struck 
grief  and  sorrow  into  the  heart  of  Haydn,  and 
he  determined  to  write  a  suitable  farewell  sym- 
phony. He  composed  it  and  produced  it  be- 
fore the  court.  The  symphony  was  scored  at 
the  beginning  for  the  usual  number  of  players, 
but  in  the  course  of  its  performance  the  audi- 
ence noticed  that  two  bassoons,  two  oboi,  and 
two  clarinets  quietly  shut  up  their  books,  put 
the  extinguishers  on  their  candles,  and  retired 
very  softly  and  sadly.  Other  couples  did  like- 
wise till  only  a  quartette  of  the  strings  remained. 
Haydn,  who  had  appeared  to  be  absorbed  in 
his  work  as  conductor,  suddenly  discovered 
that  he  was  left  almost  alone,  looked  round  in 
sorrow,  heaved  a  big  sigh,  and  ended  the  per- 
formance. History  relates  that  the  ruse  was 
successful ;  the  scene  was  so  pathetic  that  the 
Prince  concluded  to  retain  his  orchestra. 

This  pretty  little  drama  was  re-enacted  by 
the  Fund  Society  in  the  old  Tremont  Temple  ; 
but  alas !  there  was  no  prince  to  come  to  the 
rescue.  The  Society  had  evidently  served  its 
time  and  purpose,  and  shortly  after  it  ceased 
active  operations. 

One  stroke  of  misfortune  was  reserved  for 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    55 

the  close  of  its  career.  On  a  Saturday  night 
in  the  coldest  part  of  the  winter,  the  Society 
gave  a  concert.  When  it  was  over  the  musi- 
cians discovered  that  the  streets  were  in  a  very 
slippery  and  dangerous  condition  from  the  rain 
that  froze  as  it  fell,  and  a  large  number  of  them, 
fearing  to  carry  their  instruments  to  their 
homes,  left  them  in  the  office  of  the  Temple. 
That  part  of  the  building  took  fire  that  very 
night,  and  all  the  instruments,  music,  and  prop- 
erties of  the  Society  were  destroyed. 


CHAPTER  VII 

IN  the  winter  of  1846  the  first  moderately 
complete  orchestra,  known  as  the  Steyer- 
mark  Orchestra,  came  to  the  United  States 
from  Europe.  They  numbered  about  twenty 
men,  good  players,  with  Francis  Riha  as  first 
violin  and  director,  who  afterward  became  the 
second  violin  of  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette 
Club.  They  played  mostly  light  dance  music, 
overtures,  potpourris,  and  solos.  They  did 
everything  with  great  "  chic  "  or  "  snap,"  which 
was  a  new  thing  to  our  people. 

Riha  was  an  exceedingly  handsome  young 
man,  graceful  in  every  motion,  very  talented 
in  composition,  and  a  fine  violinist.  The  art- 
ists wore  the  picturesque  Steyermark  country 
uniform.  They  had  little  clinking,  cymbal-like 
bits  of  metal  attached  to  the  heels  of  their  long 
boots,  and  when  playing  certain  characteristic 
pieces  they  used  to  knock  their  heels  together 
and  produce  a  clear,  lively  sound  which  "  took  " 
with  the  audience.  They  played  nightly  for 
about  a  month  in  the  old  Melodeon  and  then 

56 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    57 

went  off  on  a  concert  tour.  They  returned  to 
Boston  after  a  while,  but  the  novelty  was  gone, 
and  their  concerts  were  poorly  patronized,  so 
they  soon  bade  us  farewell  and  once  more 
started  out  to  "  seek  their  fortunes."  One  after 
another  the  performers  finally  dropped  out  of 
the  company  and  settled  in  various  cities,  the 
director,  Francis  Riha,  coming  back  to  Boston. 

Sometime  in  1848,  another  organization, 
styling  itself  the  Lombardi  Orchestra,  visited 
us.  It  was  made  up  of  the  remnants  of  an 
Italian  opera  orchestra  which  had  ended  oper- 
ations in  New  York,  and  came  to  Boston  on  a 
venture,  with  August  Fries  as  leader  and  first 
violin. 

It  met  its  fate  in  Boston  and  went  to  pieces ; 
some  of  the  artists  remaining  there,  chief  among 
whom  was  Mr.  Fries,  a  valuable  musician,  who 
became  the  main  founder  and  leader  of  the 
Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club. 

The  next  orchestra  which  came  to  our  city 
was  the  Saxonia,  with  Mr.  Carl  Eckhardt  as 
leader.  They  played  well,  but  had  no  finan- 
cial success,  and  disbanded  in  Boston ;  many 
of  their  best  men,  such  as  Messrs.  Eichler, 
Stein,  Pinter,  and  the  leader,  settled  there.  Mr. 
Eckhardt  was  an  excellent  musician  and  violin- 
ist. He  remained  in  Boston  for  a  number  of 


58    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

years,  then  moved  to  Columbus,  Ohio,  and 
has  been  up  to  date  the  director  of  music  in 
that  city. 

In  April,  1848,  an  orchestra  which  held  to- 
gether six  years  came  to  this  country,  and 
became  quite  famous, — the  aforementioned 
Germania  Musical  Society.  It  numbered 
about  thirty  artists,  Mr.  Lenschow  being  the 
leader.  They  played  much  classic  music, — 
their  "  crack  piece "  being  the  Midsummer 
Nighfs  Dream  overture.  The  orchestra  was 
made  up  of  genuine,  fine  artists,  among  them 
Mr.  William  Schultze,  who  became  the  first 
violin  of  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette  on  the 
retirement  of  August  Fries  in  1859 — the  tenth 
year  of  the  Club. 

Schultze  was  about  twenty-two  years  old 
when  he  first  came  to  Boston.  He  had  a 
good,  lithe  figure,  and  a  handsome,  prepos- 
sessing face — a  face  which  easily  flushed  and 
showed  every  feeling  of  modesty  or  pleasure. 
It  is  easy  to  infer  that  female  admiration  laid 
siege  to  the  heart  of  this  ideal  "first  violin," 
and  he  became  the  pet  of  musical  Boston. 
He  was  a  fine  violinist,  a  good  general  mu- 
sician, something  of  a  linguist,  always  a  stu- 
dent, yet  a  most  genial,  society-loving  person, 
and  one  of  the  best  story-tellers  in  the  world. 


WILLIAM  SCHULTZE. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    59 

Schultze  was  the  first  violin  of  the  Quintette 
Club  for  nearly  twenty  years. 

There  were  other  good  men  and  artists  of 
the  Germania  who  must  also  be  remembered. 
Carl  Zerrahn  was  first  flute, — a  fine  player  and 
an  excellent  man  in  every  relation  of  life.  He 
is  too  well  known  all  through  the  country  to 
need  any  panegyric  from  me.  Carl  Bergmann 
made  his  first  appearance  with  the  Society  as 
trombonist,  afterward  as  'cellist,  and  was  also 
a  good  violinist  and  pianist.  Carl  Sentz,  the 
leading  second  violin,  was  afterward  director  of 
music  in  Philadelphia  for  many  years. 

Mr.  Carl  Meisel,  the  "well-beloved"  in  Bos- 
ton, played  at  the  same  desk  with  Schultze. 
He  succeeded  Mr.  Riha  as  second  violin  with 
the  Mendelssohn  Quintette,  1854,  in  the  fifth 
year  of  the  Club. 

When  the  Germania  Society  came  to 
America  they  played  part  of  a  season  in  New 
York  and  Philadelphia,  and  then  came  to 
Boston,  where  they  gave  a  lengthy  series 
of  concerts,  extending  over  an  entire  sea- 
son. The  following  season  they  went  to 
Baltimore  and  had  a  similar  success.  Mr. 
Lenschow,  the  leader,  finally  resigned  and 
settled  there. 

Carl  Bergmann  succeeded  Lenschow  as  con- 


60    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

ductor.  He  was  a  talented  composer,  and  was 
distinctly  a  man  of  great  attainments  in  every 
line  of  the  art  of  music.  Like  Mr.  Lenschow, 
he  was  a  wonderful  arranger  of  musical  com- 
positions calculated  to  win  popularity, — an  es- 
sential thing  for  all  artists  who  have  to  work 
for  their  bread  and  butter, — among  which  was 
a  potpourri  called  Up  Broadway  that  became 
a  great  favorite.  It  was  supposed  to  be  a 
graphic  tone-picture  of  sights  and  sounds  seen 
and  heard  from  Castle  Garden  to  Union 
Square,  which  was  at  that  time  the  boundary 
of  New  York's  bustling  life. 

This  potpourri  began  with  a  musical  picture 
of  Castle  Garden,  which  was  the  home,  and 
the  only  one,  good  music  had  at  that  time  in 
that  city.  Moving  up  with  the  musical  diorama, 
you  next  came  to  Barnum's  Museum,  with 
"  Barnum's  Band  "  of  six  or  eight  brass  instru- 
ments, which,  as  all  old  New  Yorkers  know, 
played  all  day  long  on  a  high  balcony  outside 
his  Museum  on  Broadway,  nearly  opposite  the 
Astor  House.  It  was  side-splitting  to  hear  the 
imitation  of  this  brass  band.  One  can  even 
now  occasionally  enjoy  a  faint  resemblance  of 
it  in  passing  a  dime  museum. 

The  report  was  current  that  Barnum's  play- 
ers were  made  to  pay  a  little  money  for  the 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    61 

privilege  of  practising  and  playing  in  public. 
I  don't  vouch  for  its  truthfulness,  but  the  story 
went  that  a  man  made  application  to  play  the 
trombone  on  the  balcony  with  the  combina- 
tion, who,  like  all  musicians,  was  a  very  modest 
man,  and  did  not  like  to  mention  the  word  pay 
or  salary.  He  was  told  that  he  could  play. 
At  the  end  of  the  week  he  plucked  up  courage 
enough  to  appear  before  Mr.  Barnum  and 
timidly  ask  for  his  wages.  Phineas  was  quite 
ready  with  his  little  bill  per  contra  :  "  John 
Smith,  to  P.  T.  Barnum,  Dr.,  for  the  privilege 
of  playing  on  the  balcony  of  Museum  one  week 
in  public,  nine  dollars." 

Returning  to  the  potpourri,  a  firemen's  pa- 
rade with  brass  band  came  next.  Naturally 
it  was  preceded  by  a  violent  ringing  of  fire- 
bells,  and  a  rushing  down  a  side  street  with 
"  the  machine."  When  that  noise  died  away, 
music  from  the  open  door  of  a  dance  hall  was 
heard ;  with  of  course  all  its  accompaniments, 
—the  rhythm  of  dancing  feet,  and  the  calling 
out  of  the  figures.  Then,  moving  on  with  the 
diorama,  we  passed  by  a  church  whence  came 
the  sound  of  organ  music  and  the  chanting  of 
a  service  by  a  number  of  voices.  After  that 
we  heard  in  the  distance  a  faint  kind  of  Turk- 
ish patrol  music  ;  then  a  big  crescendo  and  sud- 


62    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

fan.  fortissimo  introduced  us  to  Union  Square 
and  its  life ;  and  two  brass  bands  in  two  differ- 
ent keys  prepared  our  nerves  for  the  usual 
collision  and  fight  between  two  opposing  fire 
companies.  This  latter  made  a  great  sensa- 
tion. Finally,  fireworks  were  touched  off,  the 
Star-Spangled  Banner  was  played,  and  the  pot- 
pourri ended,  sending  every  one  home  in  smil- 
ing good-humor. 

.The  Germania  was  a  big  success  in  Boston. 
Subscription  lists  twenty  feet  long  (no  ex- 
aggeration) could  be  seen  in  the  music  stores 
for  a  series  of  twenty-four  Saturday  evenings, 
and  the  same  number  of  public  rehearsals  on 
Wednesday  afternoons.  These  public  rehears- 
als were  the  first  ever  given  in  Boston,  and,  if 
I  mistake  not,  the  first  given  anywhere.  Cer- 
tainly the  system  did  not  prevail  in  Europe,  for 
I  distinctly  remember  that  some  combination 
carried  out  the  idea  in  London,  and  it  was 
commented  on  there  as  "  following  the  Ameri- 
can plan." 

The  Germania  held  together  about  six  years 
— most  of  the  time  in  Boston.  They  made 
many  short  trips  in  New  England,  and  one 
tourne"e  with  Jenny  Lind.  Their  summers  were 
profitably  spent  in  Newport.  In  the  last  two 
seasons  they  added  as  stars  the  famous  girl- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    63 

violinist,  Camilla  Urso,  and  Alfred  Jaell,  pian- 
ist. Madame  Urso  is  too  well  known  to  need 
any  eulogy  at  my  hands.  She  is  one  of  the 
very  few  young  wonders  who  developed  into 
great  artists  at  maturity.  Jaell  was  a  splendid 
pianist.  If  he  were  playing  at  the  present 
day,  he  would  bear  comparison  with  the  great- 
est living  players.  When  the  Germania  dis- 
banded, he  went  to  Paris,  made  his  home  in 
that  city,  and  won  a  popularity  which  he  never 
lost.  He  died  very  recently. 

The  Germania  were  the  first  to  play  in  Bos- 
ton the  C-Major  Symphony  of  Schubert,  the 
Ninth  Symphony  by  Beethoven,  and  the  Tann- 
hauser  overture. 

In  1854  the  Society  disbanded.  The  men 
were  tired  of  travelling ;  they  wanted  to  set- 
tle down  ;  and  the  cities  of  Baltimore,  Phila- 
delphia, New  York,  and  Boston  were  enriched 
by  their  presence.  Bergmann  went  to  New 
York,  and  was  elected  conductor  of  the  New 
York  Philharmonic  Society,  which  position  he 
held  for  many  years.  He  died  about  twelve 
years  ago. 

I  give  a  copy  of  the  programme  of  a  typical 
concert  given  by  the  Germania,  January  28, 
1854  ;  assisted  by  Mrs.  Emma  A.  Wentworth, 
soprano,  and  Mr.  Robert  Heller,  pianist. 


64    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

1.  JUBEL  OVERTURE      ....    Lindpaintner. 

2.  VALSE Strauss. 

3.  TERZETTI,  from  "  Attila  "          ...        Verdi. 

4.  CAVATINA Meyerbeer. 

Mrs.  WENT  WORTH. 

5.  RONDO  FOR  PIANO     ....     Mendelssohn. 

MR.  HELLER. 

6.  POTPOURRI Bergmann. 

7.  QUADRILLE        ......     French. 

8.  OVERTURE,  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream," 

Mendelssohn. 

9.  GALOP        .......     Lumbye. 

10.  SONG,  "  List  to  the  Lark  "...       Comer. 

MRS.  WENTWORTH. 

11.  OVERTURE,  "Siege  of  Corinth  "         .        .     Rossini. 

Tickets,  50  cents.     Begin  7.30. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

'"THE  success  of  the  Germania  was  the  cause 
1  of  much  trumpeting  all  over  Europe  that 
America  was  a  country  which  wanted  music 
and  would  pay  for  it.  The  Revolution  of 
1848  made  a  big  bouleversement  of  everything 
social  and  political.  Many  people  had  to  leave 
their  country  suddenly,  and  the  great  wave  of 
emigration  from  continental  Europe  then  be- 
gan. Germany,  Austria,  France,  and  Italy 
were  in  a  frightful  financial  and  political  con- 
dition, brought  on  by  the  epidemic  of  revolu- 
tion, which  was  in  plainer  language  an  aspiration 
for  freedom.  That  "gasp  "  was  choked  for  a 
while,  but  the  spirit  is  still  "  marching  on." 
Many  of  our  best  immigrant  musicians  came  to 
America  at  that  period  ;  among  whom  were  the 
Germania,  and,  one  year  later  (in  1849),  tne 
famous  Gungl  Orchestra,  from  Berlin,  with 
the  composer  at  its  head.  Their  venture  was 
a  fiasco.  The  orchestra  numbered  about 
twenty-five.  They  did  not  play  so  well  as  the 
Germania,  consequently  did  not  have  the  ele- 

65 


66    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

ments  of  a  possible  success.  About  the  only 
souvenir  I  have  of  their  visit  is  the  hour  I 
spent  at  the  first  rehearsal  of  the  new  waltz 
Traum  des  Oceans — a  fine  waltz,  probably 
Gungl's  best,  which  was  written  while  on  his 
voyage  to  America.  Gungl  did  not  give  many 
concerts  in  Boston,  and  I  think  that  shortly 
after  his  visit  he  returned  to  Germany.  It  is 
my  impression  that  he  did  not  take  many  of 
his  men  back  with  him. 

Perhaps  the  most  important  visit  made  by 
any  orchestral  society  was  that  of  Jullien,  in 
J853,  who  brought  with  him  from  forty-five  to 
fifty  men. 

Jullien  was  a  versatile  genius,  and  in  all 
respects  a  very  remarkable  man.  His  ability 
as  a  soloist  on  many  instruments  was  extraor- 
dinary. I  remember  hearing  him,  when  I  was 
a  boy,  in  Manchester,  England,  perform  solos 
on  the  violin,  piccolo,  althorn,  French  horn, 
cornet,  and  trombone, — one  instrument  after 
the  other, — displaying  virtuosity  on  each.  He 
was  well  known  to  be  a  fine  violinist,  which 
means  that  he  must  have  had  a  natural  bent  for 
music  ;  and  he  had  given  to  it  the  usual  slavish 
devotion — without  which,  dear  admirer  of  the 
violin,  do  not  expect  to  be  anything  of  a  player 
yourself,  or  to  hear  a  player  worth  listening  to. 


MARIE  BARNA. 


Page  238 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    67 

The  French  horn  is  a  very  fascinating  in- 
strument, but  it  is  an  extremely  difficult  thing 
to  attain  anything  like  a  mastery  of  it.  The 
man  who  plays  it  well  can  easily  master  a  cor- 
net or  althorn.  The  trombone  is  also  diffi- 
cult, but  it  is  a  case  of  family  connection  ;  and 
when  you  have  been  thoroughly  introduced  to 
one  member,  the  brothers,  sisters,  and  cousins 
stand  with  outstretched  hand,  ready  to  be 
wooed.  The  piccolo  needs  practice,  but  with 
the  right  kind  of  lips  and  a  year's  study,  any 
clever  musician  will  be  enabled  to  astonish  an 
ordinary  audience. 

According  to  the  current  history  of  his  day, 
Jullien  had  been  an  officer  in  the  French  army, 
and  was  obliged  to  leave  his  country  on  ac- 
count of  the  inevitable  duel.  How  often  they 
happen,  and  how  convenient  for  public  charac- 
ters that  the  chroniclers  of  the  same  are  so 
handy !  It  immediately  arouses  admiration 
to  have  fought  a  duel  on  account  of  a 
woman,  and  though  never  a  scratch  is  re- 
ceived, it  is  bound  to  awaken  a  good  deal  of 
interest  in  the  public.  Jullien,  according  to 
report,  had  to  leave  France.  He  took  refuge 
in  England,  played  his  musical  abilities  as 
trumps,  and  won  every  game. 

This  bold,  venturesome  character  discerned 


68    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

with  rare  acuteness  the  musical  needs  of  the 
London  metropolis,  which  up  to  his  time  had 
had  no  concerts  but  those  given  by  the  old 
societies,  which  performed  classic  and  an- 
cient music  only,  and  that  doubtless  in  "  old- 
fogy"  style. 

Jullien  saw  his  chance,  gathered  together  a 
large  orchestra,  mainly  of  virtuosi  on  their 
respective  instruments,  and  gave  promenade 
concerts  at  one  shilling.  The  plan  was  thor- 
oughly successful.  For  years  he  carried  all  by 
storm.  He  gave  monster  concerts  in  Covent 
Garden  or  Drury  Lane  Theatre  with  immense 
orchestras  and  military  bands.  He  made  and 
lost  fortunes ;  but  he  always  contrived  to  se- 
cure great  players,  and  paid  them  generously, 
which  was  a  new  feature  in  English  musical 
history. 

He  had  the  ability  to  compose  stunning  big 
things,  like  the  Royal  Irish  Quadrilles,  ditto 
Scotch,  ditto  English,  with  endless  polkas, 
waltzes,  and  other  dance  music.  He  put  to- 
gether every  extraordinary  instrument  which 
he  could  employ ;  any  and  every  thing  which 
would  make  an  effective  noise,  from  "  jingling 
Johnnies"  to  church-bells,  cannon,  and  fire- 
works— he  used  them  all,  and  became  the 
great  popular  favorite.  His  music  arranged 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    69 

for  the  pianoforte  sold  all  over  England,  every 
piece  having  his  fac-simile  autograph  stamp 
on  the  lower  right-hand  corner,  which  helped 
to  bring  him  in  a  share  of  the  profits. 

London  likes  great  shows  as  well  as  good 
artistic  things.  Jullien  was  just  the  man  for 
the  period  in  which  he  worked,  and  certainly 
he  thoroughly  exploited  his  versatility. 

He  was  a  master  hand  at  catching  the  eye 
as  well  as  the  ear.  At  times  he  would  lay  out 
a  small  fortune  in  decorating  the  stage  with 
plants  and  flowers ;  he  knew  that  the  artistic 
and  picturesque  must  never  be  overlooked. 
The  English  love  flowers ;  Jullien  recognized 
the  fact.  They  also  like  well-dressed  people. 
Jullien  was  a  rather  handsome  (if  showy)  man, 
portly,  full-faced,  wore  side-whiskers  only,  and 
always  got  himself  up  for  public  show  "  utterly 
regardless,"  wearing  a  "  miraculous  tie,"  an 
"  immaculate  "  white  vest,  and  a  costly  diamond 
in  his  expansive  shirt-front.  I  forget  whether 
he  wore  lace  cuffs  or  not,  but  he  always  sported 
a  broad  blue  ribbon  across  his  vest,  with  a 
decoration  at  his  throat. 

He  had  a  dais  built  in  the  centre  of  the  or- 
chestra, the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with 
white  cloth  having  a  gold-lace  border.  On 
the  dais  he  had  a  splendid  arm-chair  of  white 


70    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

and  gold.  When  he  directed,  he  stood  up  and 
faced  the  audience,  his  string  forces  being  on 
either  hand,  part  way  between  him  and  the  audi- 
ence, but  leaving  him  in  full  view ;  and  the 
wood  and  wind  were  on  each  side,  with  the 
brass  in  the  rear.  In  conducting  dance  music 
or  anything  of  a  distinctly  rhythmical  character, 
he  would  mark  the  rhythm  so  graphically  with 
his  baton  that  people  actually  saw  it  at  the  end 
of  his  stick.  They  could  not  mistake  that,  if 
they  had  eyes.  No  one  was  allowed  to  go  to 
sleep.  When  the  various  soli  obligati  were 
forthcoming,  he  would  turn  to  the  players 
thereof ;  and  the  audience  then  saw  him  con- 
duct that  little  or  big  phrase,  give  emphasis 
and  expression  to  it,  and  coax  it  out  with  his 
baton — his  wizard  baton — in  such  a  way  that 
seeing  and  hearing  were  simply  one  fact. 
Jullien  did  it  all. 

He  was  in  truth  a  hard-working  man.  Afc 
the  end  of  a  piece  he  would  drop  down  into 
the  splendid  arm-chair,  mop  his  face,  and  ap- 
pear to  be  in  a  state  of  collapse,  which  drew 
out  enormous  applause.  Then  the  great  man 
would  acknowledge  the  homage  with  really 
graceful  thanks.  It  was  a  great  sight — alone 
worth  the  price  of  admission. 

Jullien  spent  money  like  a  king  among  mu- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     71 

sicians.  He  took  his  large  band  to  all  the 
prominent  cities  and  towns  m  Great  Britain, 
losing  and  making  money  by  turns.  With  the 
same  spirit  of  venturesome  confidence,  he 
brought  his  great  orchestra  to  America,  and 
with  them  Mile.  Anna  Zerr,  a  world-renowned 
soprano  singer. 

The  musicians  were  a  splendid  set.  He  had 
Bottesini,  the  Paganini  of  the  contrabass,  and 
Koenig,  the  great  cornetist  of  the  day,  who 
could  play  with  wonderful  expression,  his 
rendition  of  the  Prima  Donna  Waltz  being 
really  an  artistic  marvel.  Then  there  was  the 
oboist,  Lavigne,  playing  with  exquisite  tone 
and  fine  technique,  who  could  hold  a  tone  (it 
was  said)  all  the  evening  by  breathing  through 
his  nostrils  while  playing.  Then  there  was 
the  necromantic  flautist,  Reichardt,  the  very 
fine  clarinetist,  Wuille,  and  an  ophicleide- 
player,  Mr.  Hughes,  who  drew  out  of  his  in- 
strument a  wonderfully  soft,  large,  and  mellow 
tone,  and  played  with  great  execution.  Among 
the  first  violins  were  the  brothers  Mollenhauer, 
who  were  famous  as  players  of  duets,  and  who 
finally  settled  in  this  country.  In  fact  so  large 
an  array  of  virtuosi  has  not  visited  the  United 
States  since  Jullien's  day. 

The  orchestra  played  a  fair  share  of  classic 


72    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

music,  alternating  with  the  very  popular.  I 
remember  an  occasion  in  Boston  when  the 
andante  of  Beethoven's  Second  Symphony 
was  on  their  programme.  By  accident  the 
parts  for  the  players  were  not  forthcoming ; 
but  they  played  it  nevertheless  from  memory. 
It  was  not  a  great  feat,  perhaps,  but  it  is 
worthy  of  mention,  to  show  that  they  were  in 
the  routine  of  playing  some  good  music  ;  evi- 
dently that  andante  was  at  their  fingers'  ends. 

It  is  not  easy  to  realize  how  much  our  musi- 
cal entertainments  have  changed  for  the  better, 
except  by  a  glance  backward  at  those  of  the 
preceding  age.  Just  about  forty  years  ago  a 
scene  was  enacted  by  an  assemblage  of  the 
best  musicians  of  the  day  in  the  city  of  New 
York  which  would  be  scarcely  credible  had  it 
not  been  seen  and  heard  and  described  to 
me  by  a  friend  not  given  to  romancing  on 
serious  subjects. 

Jullien  with  his  band  was  performing  in  the 
Crystal  Palace,  built,  in  what  was  then  "up- 
town," in  imitation  of  the  London  Palace  of 
the  Great  Exposition.  The  New  York  build- 
ing was  not  so  large  as  that,  but  large  enough 
for  the  time  and  place.  Phineas  T.  Barnum 
was  the  directing  spirit,  and  he  of  course  ap- 
pealed to  the  great  popular  heart  every  time. 


FRITZ  QIESE. 


Page  156 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    73 

His  theory — possibly  a  true  one  at  that  time, 
and  measurably  born  out  by  some  facts — was 
that  the  aforesaid  heart  was  encased  in  a 
bumpkin's  body,  with  a  childlike  intelligence 
and  a  desire  for  entertainments  of  the  circus 
order.  The  more  fakes  and  side-shows  the 
merrier.  The  majority  of  the  entertainments 
were  intended  to  meet  that  demand  and  that 
only.  Hence  the  scene  in  the  Palace. 

Jullien  was  performing  a  piece  entitled  Night 
— I  cannot  now  give  the  composer's  name.  At 
the  beginning  the  audience  was  told,  either 
orally  or  by  printed  notice,  that  there  might 
be  some  startling  effects,  but  no  one  need  be 
afraid, — all  would  end  well,  etc. 

It  is  not  a  difficult  task  to  compose  an  effect- 
ive piece  to  be  called  Night  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a  grand  orchestra  as  the  main  factor, 
and  given  an  opening  of  quiet,  monotonous 
tones,  like  Felicien  David's  opening  to  his 
Desert,  a  lullaby,  a  lover's  serenade,  and  lots 
of  such  odds  and  ends,  which  any  good  man 
with  a  lively  imagination  can  invent.  At  the 
Crystal  Palace  music  of  this  sort  was  purring 
along  and  lulling  people  into  reposeful  security 
— all  quiet  as  night  should  ever  be — when  sud- 
denly the  clang  of  real  fire-bells  was  heard  ; 
people  jumped  from  their  seats ;  there  was  a 


74    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

big  commotion ;  fire  and  flames  were  seen  ap- 
parently bursting  from  the  roof  of  the  Palace ; 
ushers  were  rushing  about  telling  people  to 
sit  down,  for  it  was  a  part  of  the  performance  ; 
the  big  doors  were  swung  open,  and  in  rushed 
two  or  three  fire  companies  with  their  "  ma- 
chines," hose,  and  great  fire-ladders.  These 
ladders  were  raised  to  the  roof,  and  the  fire- 
men, in  their  traditional  red  flannel  shirts  and 
helmets,  and  carrying  speaking-trumpets, 
climbed  the  ladders.  Real  water  was  squirted, 
glass  was  broken,  cries,  orders,  every  sort  of 
noise  concomitant  of  a  fire  was  heard, — -plus 
the  big  orchestra,  which  was  making  a  fearful 
din,  sawing  and  blowing  fortissimo  through 
every  possible  diminished  seventh  that  could 
be  raked  up  out  of  the  musical  scale. 

It  lasted  long  enough  to  make  the  most  tre- 
mendously red-peppered  musical  sensation  that 
mortal  ears  ever  heard. 

It  must  be  understood  that  all  the  previously 
distributed  notices  were  not  sufficient  to  pre- 
vent some  timid  souls  from  being  alarmed. 
The  noise  and  confusion  created  almost  a  panic. 
Some  were  fainting,  others  bursting  with 
laughter,  the  cooler  ones  enthusiastically  ad- 
miring the  well-arranged  piece.  Finally,  the 
fire  was  put  out,  the  firemen  with  their  ma- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     75 

chines  retired,  and  the  orchestra  artistically 
prepared  the  audience  for  a  song  of  praise  and 
thanksgiving  which  came  in  the  shape  of  Old 
Hundred,  played  and  sung,  and  joined  in  by 
the  well-pleased  audience.  It  was  a  ne  plus 
ultra  of  realistic  music. 

Jullien,  shortly  after  his  work  in  the  New 
York  Crystal  Palace,  returned  to  England. 
His  visit  to  America  had  not  been  financially 
successful, — indeed  it  seemed  to  have  been  his 
Waterloo.  He  did  not  perform  much  more ; 
he  had  "  played  out  his  many  parts."  His  old 
admirers  deserted  him.  Financial  distress  and 
sickness  overtook  him,  and  he  came  to  a  sud- 
den and  sad  ending  in  an  insane  asylum. 


CHAPTER  IX 

IT  has  always  been  an  open  question  whether 
Boston  made  the  Handel  and  Haydn  So- 
ciety or  the  Handel  and  Haydn  Society  made 
Boston. 

The  Society  has  been  almost  an  integral 
part  of  the  city  since  1815,  the  year  of  its 
formation.  If  we  consider  the  total  result, — 
the  beneficial  and  wide-spread  influence  of  the 
Society  on  the  great  mass  of  New  England 
people, — then  we  can  comprehend  how  much 
honor  it  has  unvaryingly  reflected  on  Boston. 

I  wish  to  disclaim  any  pretension  to  writing 
an  accurate  history  of  any  Boston  musical  so- 
ciety before  I  was  a  working  member  of  any 
of  them.  I  shall  only  try  to  tell  something  of 
what  they  did,  and  how  they  did  it,  in  my  time. 

When  I  was  engaged  to  play  clarinet  in  the 
Handel  and  Haydn  Society,  it  was  a  very 
cosy  domestic  institution.  I  cannot  say 
whether  there  was  or  was  not  a  regular  mu- 
sic conductor  that  first  season.  I  remember 
distinctly  that  good  old  "father"  Jonas  Chick- 

76 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     77 

ering  did  often  beat  time  while  they  had  their 
"  sing."  These  meetings  were  always  held 
(according  to  their  By-Laws),  and  are  still, 
on  Sunday  evenings,  from  the  first  Sunday  in 
October  to  the  last  Sunday  in  May. 

Like  most  societies  of  the  period,  the  Han- 
del and  Haydn  was  composed  of  both  instru- 
mental and  vocal  members.  Amateur  players 
comprised  about  two  thirds,  and  professionals 
one  third,  of  the  orchestra.  The  profession- 
als were  engaged  to  "  help  out."  We  were 
paid  the  modest  sum  of  two  dollars  for  each 
evening,  whether  concert  or  rehearsal,  every 
Sunday  through  the  season.  It  was  an  invalu- 
able apprenticeship.  I  believe  that  musicians 
of  the  present  day,  who  do  not  have  the  slow 
building-up  through  the  regular  performance 
of  oratorios,  lose  a  schooling  no  other  music 
can  give.  Old  Bostonians  were  great  gainers 
by  being  permeated  with  the  Messiah,  the 
Israel  in  Egypt,  Samson,  Jephtha,  Solomon, 
Saul,  Judas  Maccab&us,  Ads  and  Galatea,  and 
Esther,  all  by  Handel ;  the  Creation,  the  Sea- 
sons, and  masses,  by  Haydn  ;  the  Elijah,  St. 
Paul,  and  the  Hymn  of  Praise,  by  Mendels- 
sohn ;  and  the  Requiem  and  other  masses,  by 
Mozart. 

Nor  did  the  Society  stop  with  the  above 


78    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

works.  They  were  right  catholic  in  their 
tastes.  They  gave  operas  founded  on  sacred 
histories,  such  as  Moses  in  Egypt,  by  Rossini ; 
the  Martyrs,  by  Donizetti,  and  Nabucco,  by 
Verdi.  The  Moses  had  a  popular  run  for  several 
seasons.  Rossini  was  then  in  vogue.  Indeed 
the  great  arias  with  their  quite  tremendous 
instrumental  solo  introductions,  and  the  effect- 
ive concerted  pieces  and  finales  of  dramatic 
energy,  would  be  startling  even  at  the  present 
day. 

Time  brought  changes.  The  amateur  play- 
ers dropped  off.  The  "  Profs  "  were  released 
from  Sunday  attendance.  The  Society  began 
to  engage  orchestras  of  professional  players  for 
a  definite  number  of  concerts  only. 

Various  conductors  have  contributed  their 
share  towards  the  musical  development  of  the 
Society. 

Mr.  Charles  Horn,  the  English  song-writer, 
was,  I  believe,  imported  in  order  to  bring  out 
the  oratorio  of  Elijah.  I  think  he  was  followed 
by  John  L.  Hatton.  This  gentleman  was  a 
very  fine  musician  and  composer,  an  excellent 
pianist,  and,  mirable  dictu,  an  exceptionally 
fine,  unctuous  singer  of  comic  songs. 

Think  of  it,  classicists  of  the  present  day, — 
the  director  of  the  Handel  and  Haydn  Society 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    79 

a  famous  singer  of  comic  songs  !  I  can  assure 
my  readers,  though,  that  when  Mr.  Hatton 
sang  The  Little  Fat  Man,  Bluebeard,  or  The 
Jolly  Young  Oysterman  (words  by  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  music  by  Hatton),  he  satis- 
fied very  largely  the  aesthetic  tastes  of  the  day. 
It  is  also  to  be  remembered  that  there  are 
comic  songs  and  comic  songs.  Those  Mr. 
Hatton  sang  were  distinctly  musical,  with  piano 
accompaniments  like  those  by  Franz  or  Grieg. 

Mr.  Hatton's  versatility  was  great.  I  re- 
member an  instance  of  it.  One  Saturday  night 
in  a  Musical  Fund  concert,  he  played  Men- 
delssohn's D-Minor  Piano  Concerto, — that  be- 
ing its  first  performance  in  Boston.  Later,  in 
the  same  concert,  he  sang  some  comic  songs. 
The  next  evening,  in  the  same  hall,  in  a  Han- 
del and  Haydn  concert,  he  conducted  a  per- 
formance of  the  Elijah.  The  singer  of  the  title 
role  was  suddenly  indisposed  and  unable  to  sing. 
Mr.  Hatton,  through  the  entire  performance, 
sang  the  part  of  "  Elijah," — turning  around  to 
face  the  audience  when  singing,  yet  continu- 
ing to  conduct  the  forces.  He  sang  the  music 
in  artistic  style  and  with  a  good,  full  voice. 

Mr.  Hatton  stayed  in  Boston  about  two  sea- 
sons, and  was  a  splendid  worker  in  the  musical 
life  of  the  city. 


8o    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

There  was  a  Mr.  Davidson,  who  conducted 
for  part  of  a  season  only.  He  was  followed 
by  Mr.  Charles  C.  Perkins,  who  filled  the  office 
of  conductor  and  president  of  the  society  for 
several  years.  Mr.  Perkins  was  a  devoted 
patron  of  music,  and  indeed  of  all  the  fine  arts. 
He  was  of  the  true  noblesse,  almost  un-Ameri- 
can in  his  patrician-like  devotion  to  and  work- 
ing for  the  advancement  of  art.  A  graduate 
of  Harvard,  he  had  spent  some  years  in  Europe 
studying  music  and  painting.  Returning  to 
Boston,  he  mingled  actively  in  the  musical  life 
of  the  city,  and  for  years  he  had  a  musical  even- 
ing at  his  house  each  week.  Chamber  music 
by  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club  and  our 
best  local  or  visiting  pianists  did  good  service 
then  and  there  by  familiarizing  devotees  of 
music  with  excerpts  of  the  best  kind.  At  Mr. 
Perkins's  house  was  heard  for  the  first  time 
Schumann's  Piano  Qnintette,  with  Mr.  William 
Scharfenberg  (recently  deceased)  at  the  piano. 
I  remember  the  occurrence  well.  We  young 
artists  were  so  stirred  up  and  excited  by  the 
Quintette  that  when  we  ended  its  last  note 
we  simply  turned  our  parts  back  again  to  the 
beginning  and  played  the  whole  work  once 
more,  con  amore. 

Mr.  Perkins  was  a  zealous  worker  for  the 


CARL  ZERRAHN. 


Page  82 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    81 

building  of  the  Boston  Music  Hall ;  and  he 
did  himself  and  the  city  of  Boston  honor  by 
presenting  to  the  Hall  the  splendid  bronze 
statue  of  Beethoven,  by  Crawford,  the  sculptor. , 
Later  on  he  was  an  equally  ardent  worker  for 
the  building  and  founding  of  the  Art  Museum  ; 
and  for  years  he  devoted  much  time  to  teach- 
ing and  lecturing  on  art  subjects  in  the  Normal 
School.  He  was  a  fairly  good  pianist,  and  had 
composed  a  number  of  pieces  of  chamber  music, 
— trios,  quartettes,  and  a  septette  for  piano  and 
strings.  Wherever  his  money,  labor,  or  influ- 
ence could  reach,  they  were  actively  employed 
for  the  advancement  of  art.  And  since  his 
tragic  death,  no  one  has  stepped  forward  to 
quite  take  his  place. 

The  next  conductor  and  pilot  of  the  society 
was  Mr.  Carl  Zerrahn,  who  was  for  many  years 
at  the  helm.  Advanced  age  alone  induced 
him,  at  the  beginning  of  the  season  of  1895, 
to  retire  from  his  responsible  position. 

Taking  Mr.  Zerrahn  in  all  points,  he  was 
and  is  still  a  rare  man.  He  has  filled  a  long 
life  with  honor  to  himself  and  satisfaction  to 
those  who  came  in  contact  with  him.  First 
showing  good  ability  as  the  director  of  the 
Orchestral  Union,  he  afterward  became  the  con- 
ductor of  the  Harvard  Symphony  Concerts,  the 

6 


82    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Handel  and  Haydn  Society,  and  the  Worcester 
Festivals.  He  was  always  much  in  demand  in 
New  England,  and  in  fact  from  Maine  to  Cali- 
fornia. He  possessed  one  trait  of  character 
which  manifested  itself  during  the  laborious 
working  of  a  music  festival. 

Let  us  suppose  that  the  festival  began  at  9 
A.M.  on  Monday,  and  continued  with  rehearsals 
or  performances  till  Saturday  night :  I  can  tes- 
tify, from  personal  experience  while  assisting  in 
the  festivals,  that  Mr.  Zerrahn  was  always  as 
fresh,  as  full  of  interest,  and  as  energetic  at  the 
last  hour  as  he  was  at  the  first.  In  that  par- 
ticular trait,  which  every  musician  knows  to  be 
an  important  one,  he  was  a  matchless  man. 

He  was  also  very  firm  and  earnest  in  action, 
amiable  in  temper,  and  considerate  of  the  short- 
comings of  the  many  inexperienced  performers 
who  came  under  his  baton.  He  was  never 
known  to  show  up  the  weakness  of  an  artist  to 
the  public ;  neither  the  highest  nor  the  hum- 
blest assistant  ever  received  a  discourteous 
word  from  him.  He  was  and  is  still  a  rare  man 
indeed  ;  and  unquestionably  is  enthroned  in 
the  hearts  of  very  large  numbers  of  those  who 
came  under  his  direction. 

Another  man  worthy  of  being  singled  out  is 
Dr.  J.  P.  Upham,  for  many  years  president  of 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    83 

the  Handel  and  Haydn  Society,  who  as  an 
executive  officer  and  organizer  was  quite  Na- 
poleonic. It  was  mainly  through  his  labors 
that  sufficient  interest  was  aroused  to  purchase 
the  great  organ  for  the  Music  Hall.  His 
master  work  in  Boston,  however,  was  in  creat- 
ing a  strong  popular  belief  in  the  benefits  aris- 
ing from  the  teaching  of  music  in  the  public 
schools,  and  in  the  further  wisdom  of  holding 
a  yearly  exhibition,  in  the  shape  of  a  School 
Music  Festival,  to  show  the  total  results 
thereof. 

I  cannot  end  my  friendly  record  of  the  Handel 
and  Haydn  Society  without  mentioning  the 
untiring  service  of  the  two  "war  secretaries," 
Loring  B.  Barnes  and  J.  Parker  Brown.  The 
latter  has  also  been  for  many  years  the  presi- 
dent of  the  society.  Every  man  of  experience 
in  the  management  of  societies  knows  that 
there  are  times  when  much  zeal  and  tact,  per- 
sonal influence,  and  unceasing  vigilance,  alone 
"keep  the  machine  running."  Those  are  the 
qualities  which  win  victory  from  threatening 
defeat.  Mr.  Barnes  and  Mr.  Brown  have 
merited  great  praise  for  the  forethought  and 
foresight  displayed  while  engaging  the  array 
of  artists  for  the  many  Handel  and  Haydn 
Festivals ;  they  were  doubtless  inspired  by 


84    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Santa  Cecilia,  the  sweet  patroness  of  music,  to 
make  the  sacrifices  on  her  altars  so  willingly 
performed  by  all  her  devotees. 

Mr.  B.  J.  Lang,  the  almost  lifelong  organist 
and  steadfast  helper  of  the  Handel  and  Haydn 
Society,  and  for  a  time  the  successor  of  Carl 
Zerrahn  as  conductor,  has  shown  in  countless 
ways  such  consummate  skill,  tact,  and  artistic 
judgment  that  he  has  won  the  admiration  of 
all  musicians.  He  is  a  man  of  marked  charac- 
ter, a  typical  American,  ambitious  and  indus- 
trious. I  have  known  him  since  his  boyhood, 
when  he  lived  with  his  parents  in  their  quiet 
home  in  Salem,  Mass.  I  used  to  meet  him  fre- 
quently on  the  train  for  Boston,  where  he  went 
to  take  piano  or  organ  lessons,  and  I  noticed 
that  he  prepared  his  harmony  lessons  while  en 
route.  In  this  way  the  youth  grew  up,  system- 
atically laying  the  foundation  for  his  future 
usefulness.  Now  at  maturity  he  has  the  repu- 
tation of  being  a  distinguished  pianist,  organ- 
ist, teacher,  and  general  director.  A  few 
sentences  will  suffice  to  outline  the  life  of  the 
busy  artist  since  he  made  his  d4but  at  fifteen 
years  of  age  in  one  of  the  Mendelssohn  Quin- 
tette Club's  concerts. 

Mr.  Lang  has  always  been  a  hard  student, 
and  is  known  by  his  friends  to  be  a  progres- 


B.  J.    LANQ. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    85 

sive  man,  with  many  new  and  bright  ideas. 
While  still  very  young  he  organized,  in  1862, 
a  couple  of  concerts,  in  which  he  appeared  as 
the  conductor  of  a  large  orchestra,  chorus, 
and  soloists,  in  two  performances  of  the  Wai- 
pur  gis  Nacht.  He  thus  entered  upon  a  broad, 
artistic  life,  and  has  continued  in  the  same 
path.  He  has  been  the  conductor  of  the 
Apollo  Club  since  its  formation  in  1871,  and 
also  of  the  St.  Cecilia  Club.  The  first  concert 
of  the  latter  was  given  November  19,  1874, 
orchestra  assisting.  The  programme  con- 
sisted of  several  part-songs  and  the  Walpurgis 
Nacht,  by  Mendelssohn.  One  of  the  most 
notable  accomplishments  of  Mr.  Lang  was 
the  bringing  out  of  the  Passion-Play  of  Parsifal 
by  Richard  Wagner.  At  great  expense  he 
brought  from  New  York  the  entire  Seidl  Or- 
chestra, which  had  recently  played  the  work 
in  that  city.  It  was  a  bold  and  brilliant 
stroke.  No  other  performance  of  the  great 
composition  has  been  vouchsafed  Boston. 

It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  be  able  to  give  a 
slight  sketch  of  his  daughter,  Margaret  Ruth- 
ven  Lang.  She  was  born  in  1867,  and  in- 
herits the  musical  ability  of  her  parents.  'Her 
mother  is  well  known  as  an  amateur  singer  of 
great  refinement.  Miss  Lang,  therefore,  has 


86    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

had  a  musical  education  which  has  been  care- 
fully directed  in  every  detail.  She  has  attained 
a  position  which  places  her  among  the  four 
foremost  female  composers  of  the  world,  the 
other  three  being  Chaminade  and  Holmes  of 
Paris,  and  Mrs.  Beach  of  Boston. 

Miss  Lang  began  writing  music  when  about 
twelve  years  old.  Among  her  first  composi- 
tions were  a  quintette  of  one  movement  for 
strings  and  piano,  and  several  songs.  She 
began  the  study  of  the  pianoforte  under  one 
of  her  father's  pupils,  and  later  continued  it 
under  his  direction.  Some  time  after  this 
she  studied  the  violin  with  Louis  Schmidt  in 
Boston,  and  continued  it  under  Drechsler 
and  Abel,  in  Munich,  during  the  winters  of 
1886-1887.  While  in  Munich  she  also  studied 
composition  with  Victor  Gluth. 

On  returning  to  Boston  in  1887,  she  took 
up  the  study  of  orchestration  with  G.  W. 
Chadwick,  since  which  time  she  has  written  a 
large  number  of  compositions,  many  of  which 
have  had  great  success. 

Her  Dramatic  Overture,  op.  12,  was  per- 
formed by  the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra, 
under  Nikisch,  on  April  8,  1893  ;  her  overture 
Witichis,  op.  10,  was  performed  in  Chicago 
under  Theodore  Thomas,  at  two  concerts,  in 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    87 

July  and  August,  1893  ;  and  at  a  third  con- 
cert under  Bendix.  Both  of  these  composi- 
tions are  in  manuscript ;  also  a  third  overture, 
op.  23,  Totila.  Of  other  works  for  orchestra, 
composed  later,  are  three  arias :  one  for  alto, 
Sappho  s  Prayer  to  Aphrodite,  performed  in 
New  York  in  1896  ;  one  for  soprano,  Armida, 
performed  at  the  Boston  Symphony  Concert, 
January  13,  1896  ;  and  one  for  baritone,  Pkcebus. 


CHAPTER  X 

AMONG  the  many  artists  with  whom  I 
have  come  in  contact,  none  had  a  per- 
sonality which  made  a  greater  impression  on  me 
than  Ole  Bull.  His  magnificent  figure,  that 
head  of  long  hair  and  the  way  he  had  of  throw- 
ing it  back  to  keep  it  out  of  his  eyes  when 
performing,  made  a  picture  which  memory 
easily  retains.  His  career  as  a  virtuoso  in 
America  and  Europe  is  too  well  known  to 
require  much  mention  of  it  here. 

The  question  has  often  been  put  to  me : 
What  kind  of  an  artist  was  Ole  Bull  ?  It  was 
a  question  difficult  to  answer,  and  I  tried  to 
follow  the  example  of  wise  men,  and  diplomat- 
ically evade  giving  a  musical  opinion.  I  shall 
use  the  same  tactics  now.  There  are  a  few 
points,  though,  that  I  have  never  seen  brought 
out  in  any  criticism. 

The  apothegm  of  President  Lincoln,  "  You 
can't  fool  all  the  people  all  the  time,"  comes 
into  play  in  this  case.  There  were  many 
reasons  for  Ole  Bull's  great  popularity.  He 

88 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    89 

had  some  remarkable  points  in  technique  ;  for 
instance,  his  marvelous  staccato ;  also  his  trick 
of  playing  a  four-part  harmony  on  an  almost 
flat  bridge.  His  rendition  of  The  Mother s 
Prayer  was  a  finished  performance,  while  that 
of  The  Arkansas  Traveller  was  simply  a  stroke 
of  genius  in  its  way. 

A  poor  way,  the  musician  will  say.  Of 
course  it  was,  but  it  was  a  way  by  which  he 
gained  great  popularity.  I  heard  him  play  The 
Arkansas  Traveller  once  ;  I  shall  never  forget 
it.  The  piece  opened  with  a  short  introduc- 
tion,— a  quiet,  plaintive  air, — at  the  conclusion 
of  which  he  gently  lifted  up  his  right  foot, 
much  in  the  old-grandfather  manner  of  beat- 
ing time ;  then  he  suddenly  brought  down 
that  foot  with  tremendous  force  on  the  un- 
carpeted  stage  and  dashed  off  into  the  most 
reckless,  mad,  and  intoxicated  jig  any  dancer 
ever  heard  to  start  the  fever  of  dancing  within 
him.  It  was  startling. 

Our  Quintette  Club  was  engaged  to  play 
with  Ole  Bull  for  a  week.  He  was  requested  to 
play  first  violin  in  one  of  Mozart's  quintettes, — 
a  first  movement  only.  We  had  to  stand  up 
while  playing  it.  To  sit  down  and  play  was  an 
impossibility  for  the  heroic  Ole.  At  the  time 
of  the  first  Jubilee  in  Boston,  he  and  Carl  Rosa 


90    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

played  at  the  first  desk  of  violins.  We  all 
thought  it  noble  of  him  to  take  part. 

Ole  Bull  had  all  the  fine  traits  of  the  success- 
ful player.  After  each  of  his  performances  there 
was  usually  great  applause.  When  he  came 
out  on  the  stage  to  acknowledge  the  compli- 
ment, his  manner  was  so  uncommonly  graceful, 
so  stately-courteous,  as  he  bowed  right  and 
left,  that  the  audience  was,  if  possible,  more 
completely  captured  than  when  he  was  playing 
to  them. 

Ole  Bull  visited  the  United  States  for  the 
first  time  in  1843.  He  returned  to  Europe, 
but  revisited  America  many  times.  He  had 
great  happiness  in  the  last  part  of  his  life, 
resulting  from  his  marriage  with  an  American 
woman  of  unusual  distinction  of  character. 
He  died  in  the  home  he  had  created  for  his 
family  on  a  picturesque  island  in  one  of  Nor- 
way's wonderful  fjords. 

Boston  had  another  remarkable  man  to 
help  in  the  building  up  of  a  refined  taste  for 
music, — Julius  Eichberg. 

Mr.  Eichberg  came  to  this  country  in  1847, 
and  was  in  New  York  for  two  years.  In  1849 
he  removed  to  Boston,  and  was  appointed 
director  of  music  in  the  Boston  Museum. 
While  in  that  position  he  composed  and  pro- 


OLE  BULL. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    91 

duced  several  operettas  of  charming  quality, 
notably  the  Doctor  of  Alcantara,  though  as  a 
composer  he  was  academic.  In  that  vein  he 
wrote  a  good  quintette  for  strings,  which  was 
played  by  our  Club  ;  also  a  concerto  for  four 
violins,  which  was  performed  at  a  benefit 
concert  for  the  Musical  Union. 

In  1867  he  established  the  Boston  Conser- 
vatory of  Music,  which  was  chiefly  a  violin 
school  of  great  value,  and  which  is  still  at 
work,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Herbert  P. 
Chelius.  Mr.  Eichberg  was  a  fine  violinist  and 
a  man  of  culture.  He  was  thoroughly  ap- 
preciated in  our  community,  and  was  for  many 
years  the  general  supervisor  and  director  of 
music  for  all  the  high  schools  of  Boston,  in 
which  capacity  he  did  good  work  for  the  people 
of  the  "  Modern  Athens." 


CHAPTER  XI 

'"THE  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club  may  be 
said  to  be  like  Topsy, — "  not  born  but 
just  growed." 

The  members  of  the  Club  were  : 

August  Fries,  ist  violin  ;  Francis  Riha,  2d 
violin ;  Edward  Lehman,  viola  and  flute ; 
Thomas  Ryan,  viola  and  clarinet ;  Wulf 
Fries,  violoncello. 

Its  real  career  began  with  its  first  public 
concert  in  Boston,  December,  1849. 

This  was  the  programme  : 

1.  QUINTETTE  IN  A,  OP.  18  .         .         .     Mendelssohn. 

Four  Movements. 

2.  LA  MELANCOLIE,  solo  for  violin         .         .     Prume. 

MR.  FRANCIS  RIHA. 

3.  TRIO  FOR  FLUTE,  VIOLIN,  AND  VIOLONCELLO,  on 

themes  from  the  opera  of  "  Zampa,"  by  Harold. 

Kalliwoda. 
MESSRS.  LEHMAN,  AUGUST  AND  WULF  FRIES. 

4.  FIFTH  AIR  VARI£  FOR  CLARINET.      .         .  F.  Berr. 

MR.  THOMAS  RYAN. 

5.  QUINTETTE  IN  E  FLAT,  OP.  4    .         .         Beethoven. 

Four  Movements. 
92 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    93 

That  programme  was  certainly  a  notable 
one — fit  for  to-day's  use.  We  had  set  our 
standard  high ;  and  have  never  lowered  it 
during  our  almost  fifty  years  of  service. 

The  custom  of  the  period,  which  prohibited 
theatrical  performances  Saturdays,  gave  the 
musicians  entire  freedom  on  those  days.  Mr. 
August  Fries  and  his  brother  Wulf,  members 
of  the  National  Theatre  Orchestra,  were  de- 
voted quartette  players,  and  they  always  util- 
ized their  precious  freedom  on  Saturdays  by 
getting  their  confreres  together  to  play  quar- 
tettes with  them.  In  this  way  the  foundation 
was  laid  for  the  formation  of  the  Quintette 
Club.  The  Fries  brothers  enlisted  the  interest 
of  Messrs.  Gierlow,  Greuner,  and  Lehman. 
These  five  began  to  play  for  their  own  enjoy- 
ment, and  after  a  while  they  played  at  a  few 
concerts  outside  of  Boston  before  I  was  a 
member. 

In  1849,  Mr.  August  Fries  gave  violin  les- 
sons to  Mr.  John  Bigelow,  of  the  well-known 
firm,  Bigelow  Brothers  &  Kennard,  jewellers. 
By  invitation  of  Mr.  Bigelow  these  five  artists 
spent  many  of  their  Saturday  evenings  at  his 
house.  Having  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Bigelow's 
acquaintance,  I  also  was  at  his  house  on  most 
of  these  occasions  and  to  use  the  common  ex- 


94    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

pression,  it  made  me  "just  crazy"  to  play  with 
them. 

One  day  I  said  in  jest  to  August  Fries,"  You  '11 
do  nothing  till  I  am  a  member  of  the  Men- 
delssohn Quintette  Club."  Shortly  after,  one 
of  the  gentlemen,  Mr.  Greuner,  removed  to 
Lowell,  and  I  was  invited  to  take  his  place. 
Then  Mr.  Gierlow  resigned,  and  Francis  Riha, 
the  former  leader  of  the  Steyermark  Orchestra, 
took  his  place  and  thus  became  the  second 
violin.  We  played  very  much  together  and 
got  into  fine  trim. 

Mr.  Bigelow,  who  was  our  fatherly  friend, 
and  remained  such  all  through  life,  suggested 
that  we  should  prepare  to  give  concerts,  and 
make  that  a  part  of  our  life-work.  The  ques- 
tion of  a  name  naturally  came  up.  Mendelssohn 
was  on  the  top  of  the  musical  wave  at  that 
time,  and,  as  we  had  practised  his  quintette, 
Opus  1 8,  till  we  could  venture  to  play  it  in 
public,  it  was  determined  to  call  our  party, 
The  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club  of  Boston. 
We  gave  our  first  concert  by  invitation,  in 
Jonas  Chickering's  piano  rooms,  then  on 
Washington  Street,  nearly  opposite  the  Adams 
House. 

Framed  under  glass  in  my  home,  I  have  one 
of  the  little  modest  notes  of  invitation  to  that 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    95 

concert,  sent  to  about  two  hundred  people ; 
also  the  little  yellow  tissue-paper  programme, 
three  inches  by  five,  printed  for  the  memorable 
occasion. 

We  jumped  into  favor  at  once,  gave  a  set 
of  four  subscription  concerts,  and  afterward  a 
supplementary  set  in  old  Cochituate  Hall 
(Phillips  Place),  where  now  is  Houghton  & 
Button's  store. 

Then  for  us  young  men  began  a  kind  of 
belle's  life.  We  were  in  demand  everywhere, — 
not  only  for  single  concerts,  but  for  sets  of 
four  or  more, — in  places  like  Salem,  Lowell, 
Lawrence,  Haverhill,  Taunton,  New  Bedford, 
Providence,  and  Worcester.  Concerts,  in  sets, 
were  usually  held  once  a  fortnight. 

There  were  no  dramatic  or  operatic  com- 
panies to  visit  such  places ;  but  the  lyceum 
system  was  well  established  everywhere.  Each 
town  and  city  had  its  organized  sets  of  lectures. 
In  Boston  there  were  two  library  associations 
that  were  rivals ;  and  the  astutest  generalship 
was  displayed  in  capturing  the  great  lecture 
guns  of  the  day, — Wendell  Phillips,  Geo.  W. 
Curtis,  Mr.  Whipple,  Mr.  Agassiz,  and  others. 
It  is  recorded  that  the  president  of  one  of  these 
societies,  calling  on  Mr.  Agassiz  at  a  period 
when  he  was  working  enthusiastically  on  one 


96    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

of  his  books,  laid  down  before  Mr.  Agassiz  a 
blank  check,  duly  signed,  that  the  latter 
could  fill  out  to  any  amount  for  a  lecture.  Mr. 
Agassiz  simply  said  that  his  time  was  "too 
precious,"  he  could  "  not  afford  to  work  for 
money."  Those  were  the  halcyon  days  of  the 
lecture  field. 

In  order  to  appreciate  the  environment  of 
the  Quintette  Club  during  our  early  years,  we 
have  but  to  remember  that  Boston,  within  a 
radius  of  one  hundred  miles,  had  a  very  large 
number  of  towns  and  cities  of  active  working 
communities.  With  the  exception  of  a  few 
places  like  Providence,  Worcester,  and  Port- 
land, these  towns  had  no  theatres  ;  their  only 
entertainments  were  lectures  or  concerts,  and 
these  were  mostly  given  in  churches  ;  so  we  had 
all  New  England  to  ourselves  (as  far  as  sup- 
plying music  was  concerned)  for  many  years. 

Parlor  concerts  were  in  vogue.  In  Cam- 
bridge, for  instance,  we  had  for  fifteen  con- 
secutive seasons  a  set  of  eight  parlor  concerts, 
given  in  the  houses  of  the  professors  or  other 
friends  of  music.  The  programmes  were  of 
good  music  only.  We  also  had  for  years  sets 
of  parlor  concerts  in  places  like  Milton  and 
New  Bedford. 

In  this  same  period  the   "Yankee  singing- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    97 

school"  and  the  so-called  "musical  conventions" 
flourished.  The  latter  were  held  for  years  in 
Maine,  New  Hampshire,  Vermont,  and  Mas- 
sachusetts. The  singers  of  these  different 
States  had  organized  governing  boards  that 
appointed  the  time  of  meeting  and  engaged 
the  music  director  and  assisting  artists.  The 
chorus  of  singers  chiefly  studied  so-called  "  sa- 
cred music,"  and  usually  wound  up  their  week's 
labor  with  an  oratorio  performance. 

The  members  of  the  "  musical  conventions  " 
usually  began  their  rehearsals  on  Monday  at 
nine  A.M.,  and  continued  till  noon.  The  after- 
noon session  was  from  two  to  four,  and 
was  largely  given  up  to  solo  singing  or  play- 
ing by  our  Club.  It  also  afforded  an  oppor- 
tunity for  the  amateurs  of  the  State  to  display 
their  ability  in  public.  Many  of  the  young 
singers  afterward  became  noted  in  the  mu- 
sical world.  Among  them  was  Annie  Louise 
Gary,  who  acquired  a  European  operatic  repu- 
tation that  placed  her  in  the  front  rank  among 
great  singers.  From  this  kind  of  training, 
too,  came  Mrs.  H.  M.  Smith,  Mrs.  Mozart, 
Jenny  Kempton,  Myron  Whitney,  James 
Whitney  (tenor),  and  a  host  of  others  too 
numerous  to  mention. 

The  evenings  of  the  conventions  were  gen- 


98    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

erally  devoted  to  mixed  music,  in  which  the 
chorus  took  part.  Nearly  every  oratorio 
worthy  of  mention — entire  or  in  part — was 
thus  familiarized  to  people  who  lived  in  the 
remotest  parts  of  New  England. 

This  little  history  will  account  for  the  possi- 
bility of  assembling,  on  occasions  like  the  Gil- 
more  Peace  Jubilees,  a  chorus  numbering  five 
to  ten  thousand  singers  who  were  at  home  in 
oratorio  music.  Outside  of  New  England  no 
similar  condition  existed. 

The  singing-school  and  the  musical  conven- 
tions no  longer  command  the  same  popular 
interest,  for  which  various  reasons  can  be  ad- 
duced. The  main  one  is  the  fact  that  entertain- 
ments and  professional  entertainers  of  all  kinds 
have  multiplied.  The  people  prefer  seeing  the 
game  of  baseball  played  by  experts  to  playing 
the  game  themselves.  The  same  thing  is  true 
of  the  people's  enjoyment  of  music. 

Whatever  be  the  cause,  we  know  that  in 
towns  and  small  cities,  the  old  music  societies 
have  generally  ceased  to  exist.  The  singing- 
school  teachers  who  began  in  New  England 
are  now  scattered  over  the  West.  They  have 
carried  with  them  their  old  home  ways  ;  for  in- 
stance, Mr.  Amos  Whiting,  formerly  of  Worces- 
ter, Mass.,  who  removed  to  Pittsburg,  Pa., 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    99 

and  at  once  began  work  on  the  old  singing- 
school  and  convention  plan.  In  a  few  years 
he  roused  enough  interest  in  that  community 
to  project  and  carry  through  a  magnificent 
festival,  in  which  Madame  Nilsson  and  her 
troupe  of  singers  took  part  in  an  oratorio. 
Mrs.  Whiting  has  been  doing  the  same  thing 
in  Toledo,  Ohio.  I  could  mention  other 
teachers,  but  the  instances  given  are  fair  types 
of  the  fraternity. 

While  on  the  subject  of  musical  conven- 
tions and  New  England  singers,  I  wish  to  in- 
terject a  remark, — not  as  a  compliment  on  the 
one  hand,  nor  as  a  defamation  on  the  other,— 
namely  :  in  the  conventions  it  was  often  the 
case  that  Rossini's  Stabat  Mater  was  per- 
formed, and  I  can  aver  that  the  most  perfect 
singing  of  the  two  quartettes  (concerted)  in 
that  work  was  often  done  by  Mrs.  H.  M. 
Smith,  soprano ;  Miss  Annie  Louise  Gary, 
alto  ;  Mr.  James  Whitney,  tenor ;  Mr.  Myron 
Whitney,  bass.  The  intonation  of  those  sing- 
ers was  as  positively  perfect  as  any  musician 
could  desire  to  hear. 

In  contradistinction,  I  think  no  musician  can 
speak  favorably  of  the  performance  of  the 
same  works  by  any  combination  of  so-called 
great  or  distinguished  artists  that  he  has  since 


ioo    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

heard  in  the  United  States.  The  reasons  are 
not  far  to  seek.  The  so-called  "  great  "  people 
generally  are  only  good  in  solo  work,  where 
they  can  "  shine  ! "  They  do  not,  they  will 
not,  sacrifice  their  individual  art  to  ensure  a 
good  ensemble.  They  never,  for  the  sake  of 
the  true  rendition  of  these  quartettes,  so  chro- 
matically difficult,  are  willing  to  rehearse  them 
till  they  are  fairly  perfect.  They,  the  artists, 
must  be  considered  before  the  music. 

Our  home-bred  singers  were  not  made  on 
that  pattern — they  strove  for  perfection,  and 
very  nearly  reached  it.  At  least  that  is  my 
opinion,  and  I  here  put  it  on  record.  "  Let 
justice  be  done  though  the  heavens  fall." 


CHAPTER  XII 

AMONG  the  singers  who  about  twenty 
years  ago  gained  American  and  Euro- 
pean celebrity,  easily  stands  pre-eminent  Annie 
Louise  Gary,  now  Mme.  Raymond.  As  a  con- 
tralto singer,  in  concert,  oratorio,  or  opera,  she 
won  all  hearts  with  her  superb  voice  and  ex- 
pressive vocalization.  A  native  of  the  State  of 
Maine, — born  and  reared  near  Portland, — she 
has  in  many  ways  shown  a  filial  love  for  her 
State  and  endeared  herself,  one  may  say  for- 
ever, to  its  people. 

When  she  was  at  the  height  of  her  profes- 
sional glory,  she  fitted  up  at  her  own  expense 
a  "  Gary  Room  "  in  the  Maine  General  Hos- 
pital, and  that  room  is  to  be  kept  up  at  her  ex- 
pense to  the  end  of  her  days.  That  is  an  act 
I  deem  worthy  to  be  placed  on  record,  and  I 
hope  it  may  often  be  imitated.  Yet  it  is  but 
one  of  the  many  good  acts  of  the  brave  Amer- 
ican girl. 

To  return  to  the  history  of  the  Mendelssohn 


102     Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Club,  we  were  by  no  means  paddling  our  own 
little  Quintette  "  canoe  "  only,  but  were  active 
members  of  the  different  orchestras  of  the 
Musical  Fund,  the  Orchestral  Union,  the 
Harvard  Association,  and  the  Boston  Sym- 
phony, each  in  turn  as  they  came  into  action. 

The  Orchestral  Union  was  made  up  from 
our  best  musicians, — about  forty  in  number, — 
Carl  Zerrahn  being  the  director.  The  con- 
certs were  held  in  Music  Hall  on  Wednesday 
afternoons  only.  The  entrance  fee  was  mod- 
erate. Programmes  were  of  mixed  music  : 
an  overture,  symphony,  waltz,  characteristic 
pieces,  and  opera  selections.  The  great  organ 
in  Music  Hall  was  built  about  the  time  the 
Union  began  their  concerts.  Our  best  organ- 
ists were  invited  in  turn  to  play  organ  solos  at 
each  concert.  The  Union  existed  about  ten 
years,  then  ended  its  life  for  lack  of  support. 

The  friends  of  symphonic  music,  hungering 
for  the  best  in  quality,  organized  in  1865  the 
Harvard  Musical  Association.  Mr.  Carl  Zer- 
rahn was  engaged  as  conductor,  and,  with  an 
efficient  orchestra,  gave  programmes  of  sym- 
phonic music.  In  the  first  three  years,  eight 
concerts  were  given  each  season  ;  then  for  ten 
seasons,  ten  concerts.  The  number  was  re- 
duced to  eight  for  the  next  three  seasons,  and 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     103 

in  the  last  season  but  five  were  given  ;  making 
in  all  seventeen  seasons.  The  programmes 
were  worthy  models  for  any  society  which 
means  to  be  educative ;  to  interest  the  best- 
music  lovers,  and  yet  to  remember  the  large 
army  of  those  who  desire  the  simplest  sort  of 
music.  Finally,  in  spite  of  the  wisdom  exer- 
cised by  the  directors,  interest  in  the  concerts 
waned  and  they  ended. 

In  1880  the  worthy  benefactor,  Mr.  Henry 
L.  Higginson,  founded  the  Boston  Symphony 
Orchestra.  That  orchestra  has  made  its  own 
record,  which  is  simply  one  of  increasing  per- 
fection. It  is  now  perhaps  the  model  orchestra 
of  the  world  ;  and  every  good  citizen  of  Boston 
has  reason  to  be  proud  of  the  honors  it  wins 
for  its  founder  and  the  city  of  its  birth. 

Up  to  the  year  1863,  when  the  Quintette 
Club  first  travelled  in  the  West,  we  gave  each 
year  eight  subscription  concerts  in  Boston. 
The  old  friends  and  supporters  remained 
faithful  to  us,  and  were  part  of  our  glory. 
Their  faces  and  names  rise  before  me  as  I 
write. 

First,  there  is  our  good  old  father,  John 
Bigelow,  who  with  his  family  nearly  always  sat 
in  the  front  seats.  Mr.  Bigelow  was  an  in- 
spiration. He  had  a  pair  of  hands  of  generous 


104    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

proportions,  and  when  he  applauded  the  house 
went  with  him.  When  he  was  not  present,  it 
was  comparatively  a  dull  night.  One  may 
talk  of  horses  sniffing  the  smoke  of  battle,  but 
it  is  a  faint  figure  of  speech  compared  to  the 
sniffing  of  artists  for  applause.  It  is  whip  and 
spur  to  them. 

In  these  classic  soirees  of  ours,  we  have 
played  every  composition  for  strings  worth 
playing ;  and  have  given  also  special  sets  of 
concerts  where  only  the  most  modern  works, 
like  the  Brahms  sextettes,  Bruch,  Goldmark, 
and  Rubinstein,  were  played.  We  also  gave 
for  many  seasons  the  so-called  popular  Satur- 
day night  concerts ;  for  which  we  secured 
other  artists  to  play  septettes,  octettes,  and 
nonettes  of  mixed  wind  and  string  instruments. 
Nearly  every  pianist  of  distinction  played 
repeatedly  with  us ;  among  them  were  Mr. 
William  Scharfenberg,  Otto  Dresel,  Ernst 
Perabo,  J.  C.  D.  Parker,  B.  J.  Lang,  Hugo 
Leonard,  Gustav  Satter,  J.  Trenkle,  John  L. 
Hatton,  and  Miss  Fay  (now  Mrs.  Sherwood). 

Singers  also  helped  us  in  large  numbers. 
One  was  Mile.  Caroline  Lehman,  sister  of 
our  flute  player,  who  came  from  Copenhagen 
and  sang  with  us  two  seasons.  Other  vocal 
assistants  were  Mrs.  J.  H.  Long,  Mrs.  Went- 


MR.  JOHN   BIQELOW. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     105 

worth,  Mrs.  Harwood,  Miss  Addie  S.  Ryan, 
Mrs.  H.  M.  Smith,  Adelaide  Phillips,  and 
Annie  Louise  Gary — all  good  singers.  I  think 
it  can  be  safely  said  that  the  Mendelssohn 
Quintette  Club  has  done  its  share  in  cultivating 
a  taste  for  music,  especially  chamber  music. 

It  is  next  in  order  to  tell  my  readers  some- 
thing of  the  musical  and  personal  qualities  of 
the  members  of  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette 
Club. 

Naturally  I  begin  with  August  Fries.  He 
was  a  good,  genuine  violinist,  especially  in 
quartette.  He  played  with  deep  sentiment,  was 
painstaking,  and  no  rehearsals  were  too  long  for 
him.  He  was  the  broadest  man,  had  the  oldest 
head,  of  the  organization,  and  was  altogether  a 
good  leader.  In  his  social  character  he  was 
full  of  geniality,  could  be  the  life  and  spirit  of 
every  party,  and  he  thus  endeared  himself  to  a 
very  large  number  of  personal  friends.  He 
had  the  old-world  habit  (a  charming  one)  of 
studying  beforehand  how  a  social  evening  could 
be  most  pleasantly  spent.  It  was  always  clear 
to  his  friends  that  he  had  interested  himself  to 
plan  for  their  pleasure.  That  fact  was  the  key 
to  his  character, — he  accustomed  himself  to 
think  of  others.  Whether  it  was  a  picnic, 
sail,  dance,  or  musical  evening,  he  was  the 


io6    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

leader  in  it  all.  He  was  very  firm  in  purpose 
and  set  in  his  way  ;  he  could  not  accommodate 
himself  to  some  things  ;  but  sterling  integrity 
was  the  main  point  in  his  make-up.  He  was 
an  excellent  man  for  younger  people  to  start 
with. 

August  Fries  stayed  with  us  ten  years.  He 
then  returned  to  Bergen,  in  Norway,  where  he 
has  lived  ever  since,  with  the  exception  of  a 
visit  to  Boston  about  twenty  years  ago,  when 
for  one  season  he  filled  the  post  of  concert- 
master  with  the  Harvard  Association. 

Mr.  Wulf  Fries,  brother  to  August,  was  and 
is  a  good  'cellist.  He  is  so  well  known  through- 
out the  country  that  eulogistic  words  from  me 
are  unnecessary.  It  is  not  easy  to  find  a  'cellist 
for  all  general  playing  who  produces  a  tone 
comparable  to  that  of  Fries ;  and  we  have  had 
in  the  Club  some  of  the  best  'cellists  of  this 
country, — namely  :  Fries  for  twenty-two  years  ; 
the  splendid  'cellist,  Rudolph  Hennig,  of 
Philadelphia,  for  eight  years ;  Giese,  a  great 
player,  for  four  or  five  years ;  and  Hekking 
for  one  year.  For  certain  work  and  tone, 
Fries  was  up  to  the  level  of  them  all.  His 
personal  friends  can  be  counted  in  legions. 

Mr.  Francis  Riha,  our  second  violin,  was  a 
brilliant  player  in  every  way,  with  considerable 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     107 

ability  as  a  composer.  He  was  the  handsome 
man  of  the  party, — much  petted  but  not  spoiled. 
He  stayed  with  us  five  years,  and  then  went 
south  for  a  milder  climate,  but  returned  to  New 
York  when  the  war  began. 

Edward  Lehman,  a  good  flute  and  viola 
player,  stayed  with  us  four  years,  and  then  re- 
turned to  Copenhagen,  where  he  was  the  solo 
flute  with  Lumbye  for  years. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

NOW  is  the  time  to  ask,  in  the  words  of  the 
old  song,  "  Where  are  the  friends  of  my 
youth  ?  "     They  are  scattered  like  the  leaves  of 
past  autumns ;  but   the  memory  of  many  of 
them  remains  as  a  rich  inheritance. 

One  of  the  noblest  of  the  band  was  "old 
Jonas  Chickering."  In  fancy  I  can  see  him 
now  in  his  workshop  in  the  big  factory  on 
Washington  Street.  He  was  a  medium-sized 
man  with  a  most  kindly  face.  When  at  work 
he  wore  a  white  linen  apron,  and  naturally 
was  "  in  his  shirt-sleeves."  His  special  task 
was  to  cover  all  the  hammers  for  his  best  piano- 
fortes with  buckskin, — an  important  thing  in 
those  days,  before  the  invention  of  the  white 
felt  now  used ;  which  comes,  so  to  speak, 
ready-made  to  glue  on  to  the  hammers  from 
bass  to  soprano.  Mr.  Chickering  could  be 
generally  found  with  a  sharp  knife  in  hand  pre- 
paring the  hammers.  If  customers  called,  ladies 
or  gentlemen,  he  simply  put  down  his  knife 
and  waited  on  them  ;  that  was  the  old  style. 

108 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     109 

He  had  taken  a  fatherly  interest  in  me,  and 
I  frequently  found  myself  in  his  den,  telling 
him  my  dreams  and  aspirations  ;  and  I  know 
other  young  musicians  who  were  often  with 
him.  He  liked  their  chatter,  and  exchanged 
good  counsel  for  it.  It  was  a  way  he  had. 
From  the  time  that  our  Quintette  Club  gave 
its  first  concert  in  his  rooms,  he  was  a  great 
help  and  generous  subscriber. 

One  day  I  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Chickering, 
you  are  everlastingly  doing  much  for  us, — can- 
not we  do  something  for  you  ?  For  instance, 
it  would  be  a  great  pleasure  if  we  could  give 
you  a  musical  evening  at  your  house."  He 
smiled,  thanked  me,  and  said  perhaps  he  would 
have  one.  Months  after,  he  arranged  for  the 
evening  and  we  greatly  enjoyed  it.  Some  little 
time  passed  by.  I  went  into  his  den  one  day, 
and  had  my  usual  chat  with  him.  When  I 
was  about  to  leave  he  said,  "  By  the  way, 
Mr.  Ryan,  Mr.  Childs,  the  bookkeeper,  wishes 
to  see  you."  I  saw  Mr.  Childs,  and  he  handed 
me  a  check  for  fifty  dollars.  To  cut  my 
story  short,  there  was  no  use  in  protesting ; 
Mr.  Chickering  insisted  on  my  taking  the 
money.  That  was  the  style  of  the  "  upright," 
"square,"  "grand"  old  man. 

I  am  sure  that  this  incident  is  but  a  sample 


1 10    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

of  the  way  in  which  he  helped  many  young 
musicians ;  and  it  is  an  open  secret  that  the 
father's  ways  were  inherited  by  his  noble  sons, 
of  whom  George  only  is  living. 

When  I  speak  of  Mr.  Jonas  Chickering,  the 
head  of  the  great  house,  working  and  waiting 
on  ladies  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  all  people  of  my 
age  will  understand  it  without  mental  ques- 
tion or  comment.  It  will  not  be  so  well  un- 
derstood by  people  of  the  present  day,  who, 
almost  to  the  verge  of  the  absurd,  feel  that 
they  must  not  be  visible  except  in  full  dress ; 
to  be  seen  working  with  an  apron  on  would  be 
to  voluntarily  place  themselves  in  a  humbler 
(to  use  soft  words)  stratum  of  society. 

But  let  me  tell  you,  boys,  what  was  done 
once  by  the  man  who  wore  the  white  linen 
apron.  One  sad  night,  his  great  factory  on 
Washington  Street  was  burned  down.  At 
daylight  on  the  following  morning  a  contract 
was  signed,  purchasing  a  lot  of  land  on  Tre- 
mont  Street,  and  within  twenty-four  hours  the 
building  of  another  great  factory  was  started. 
It  has  been,  and  is,  a  noble  pile, — that  work- 
shop and  factory  of  the  Chickerings.  I  think 
great  credit  is  due  to  the  man  who  had  so 
much  foresight  as  to  place  his  factory  where 
the  city  would  grow  to  it.  Mr.  Chickering 


JONAS  CHICKERINQ. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     1 1 1 

was  at  that  time  the  honored  president  of  the 
Mechanics'  Charitable  Association.  His  his- 
tory ought  to  encourage  young  men  to  wear 
white  linen  aprons,  if  necessary,  without  fear 
or  shame. 

The  next  good  old  friend  who  rises  into 
memory  is  Mr.  Thomas  Power,  the  clerk  of 
the  police  court  for  many  years.  He  was  a 
curious  mixture.  In  his  official  routine  he 
was  a  terror  to  evil-doers  ;  the  presiding  judge 
was  of  little  account  in  comparison.  When 
Mr.  Power  revealed  the  depravity  of  the 
"  he  "  or  "  she  "  under  arrest,  and  the  number 
of  times  he  or  she  had  already  been  up  be- 
fore his  Honor,  and  the  long  list  of  broken 
promises  to  reform,  there  was  a  something  in 
the  tone  of  his  voice  which  distinctly  implied, 
not  only  grief,  but  utter  absence  of  hope  that 
people  of  that  kind  would  ever  obtain  a  foot- 
hold in  the  good  part  of  the  next  world.  It 
then  became  a  case  of  "Who  enters  here 
leaves  hope  behind,"  for  the  culprit  was  shortly 
sentenced  to  three  or  six  months  in  jail. 

Mr.  Power,  when  thus  officially  employed, 
was  the  most  "  solemncholy  "  man  I  ever  met. 
But  out  of  the  court  room  he  was  a  really 
genial  soul,  the  prince  of  good  fellows,  a  fa- 
mous story-teller,  and  positively  a  lovable  man. 


ii2    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

I  recall  one  of  his  queer  stones.  He  had 
been  authorized  by  his  Honor,  the  judge,  to 
obtain  a  legal  opinion  on  a  certain  point  from 
the  Hon.  Rufus  Choate.  Mr.  Choate's  chi- 
rography  was  notoriously  the  worst  ever  seen, 
and  must  have  been  like  that  made  by  the 
traditional  fly  when  it  crawled  out  of  the  ink- 
bottle  into  which  it  had  accidentally  fallen. 
The  opinion  was  obtained,  and  was  in  Mr. 
Choate's  characteristic  handwriting.  Poor 
"Tom  Power"  looked  at  it,  as  he  said,  "up- 
side down,  right  side  up,  and  crosswise,"  but 
it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  read  it  in  any 
position.  He  then  went  over  to  Mr.  Joseph 
Bell,  Mr.  Choate's  partner,  and  got  him  to  write 
it  out.  Armed  with  both  writings,  Mr.  Power 
went  to  court,  and  the  case  was  called.  Being 
asked  to  read  Mr.  Choate's  opinion,  he  took 
up  the  (Bell)  paper,  read  it  glibly,  and  laid  it 
on  his  desk.  His  Honor  asked  to  see  the 
document.  Mr.  Power  obligingly  handed  Mr. 
Choate's  letter  up  to  him.  The  judge  looked 
at  it  with  wondering  eyes,  then  at  Mr.  Power, 
and  finally,  drawing  a  long  breath,  he  asked 
Mr.  Power  how  it  was  possible  for  him  to 
read  it. 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Power,  "  it  happens  to  be 
one  of  my  accomplishments  !  " 


LOWELL  MASON. 


Page  115 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    113 

I  have  evidence  of  Mr.  Power's  kindly  dis- 
position toward  our  Club  in  the  form  of  a  let- 
ter in  his  handwriting.  I  have  had  it  framed, 
and  I  hold  it  in  veneration. 

"  BOSTON,  March  31,  1852. 
"  To  the  Members  of  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club : 

"  GENTLEMEN  : — Holding  in  regard  your  position  as 
artists,  we  offer  you  a  complimentary  benefit.  If  you  ac- 
cept this  offer,  please  name  an  evening  when  it  will  be 
convenient  to  you. 

"  With  sentiments  of  regard, 

"  SAMUEL  A.  ELIOT, 
THOMAS  POWER, 
JOSEPH  BELL, 
G.  GUSHING, 
JOHN  BIGELOW, 
HENRY  BURDITT, 
WM.  B.  COFFIN, 
DANIEL  KIMBALL,  JR., 
RUFUS  CHOATE, 
JAMES  LODGE, 
FRANKLIN  DARRACOTT, 
JONAS  CHICKERING." 

To  a  Bostonian  these  are  names  which  carry 
weight  and  social  distinction.  Of  these  twelve 
gentlemen  not  one  is  now  alive. 

The  concert  held  in  response  to  the  above 
request,  was  one  of  the  occasions  which  will 
ever  remain  a  precious  memory  to  the  Club. 
Especially  charming  is  the  souvenir  of  that 


ii4    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

little  girl  who,  advancing  to  the  stage,  placed 
in  the  hands  of  each  of  our  number  a  bouquet, 
to  which  was  attached  a  note  of  thanks  and  a 
substantial  token  of  regard  in  the  shape  of  a 
valuable  gold  ring  and  a  large  gold  piece. 

I  also  hold  as  a  treasure  one  of  our  old  sub- 
scription lists,  well  filled  with  names.  I  read 
the  paper  from  top  to  bottom  ;  I  know  every 
name,  recall  every  person  (about  two  hundred), 
and  know  they  were  always  to  be  counted  on. 
They  were  the  friends  of  our  youth,  and  now 
are  mostly  with  the  autumn  leaves. 

"  Many  a  time  and  oft, 
When  the  house  is  still  and  the  day  is  done 
And  the  stars  are  out  aloft, 
I  sit  by  the  failing  fire  alone 
And  think  of  the  years  that  are  past  and  gone — 
Many  a  time  and  oft."  ' 

1  Amelia  B.  Edwards. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  next  old  friend  who  looms  up  large  is 
Mr.  Lowell  Mason — a  prominent  figure 
in  the  musical  history  of  the  United  States.  I 
believe  he  was  never  absent  from  any  of  our 
chamber  concerts  except  when  out  of  town. 
I  well  remember  how,  one  night  in  the  old 
Masonic  Temple,  when  we  had  finished  play- 
ing Mendelssohn's  Quartette  in  D,  op.  44,  Mr. 
Mason  rose  from  his  seat  in  the  second  row, 
came  to  the  stage,  laid  the  score  of  the  quar- 
tette at  my  feet,  said,  "It  was  beautifully 
played ;  please  keep  the  score ;  sorry  I  cannot 
stay  longer,"  and  walked  out  in  the  stately, 
self-possessed  manner  so  perfectly  in  keeping 
with  his  character. 

At  his  home  on  Kingston  Street  I  first  met 
his  sons,  William  and  Henry.  William,  as  we 
well  know,  is  one  of  the  foremost  of  American 
musicians,  a  splendid  pianist  and  composer  for 
the  pianoforte.  The  youngest  brother,  Henry, 
also  had  musical  talent.  He  became  the  head 
of  the  firm  of  Mason  &  Hamlin,  the  reed-organ 

"5 


n6    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

builders,  and  latterly  grand  and  upright  piano 
makers.  There  were  two  elder  brothers, — 
Lowell  and  Daniel ;  not  being  of  my  age,  I 
knew  them  very  little.  They  became  well- 
known  business  men  in  New  York  City. 

Mr.  Oliver  Ditson  is  another  well-known 
figure  in  musical  history.  He  has  so  re- 
cently left  his  "  niche,"  as  one  may  properly 
call  it,  in  his  store,  that  it  is  easy  to  think  he 
will  return  to  it  in  a  minute  or  so.  Mr.  Dit- 
son never  wanted  more  than  standing-room 
for  his  own  working-place ;  he  always  stood 
when  writing.  He  had  all  the  old-style  habits, 
— was  at  his  desk  from  9  A.M.  till  2  P.M.  at  all 
seasons  of  the  year,  and  never  went  so  far 
from  Boston  in  the  summer  that  he  could  not 
come  to  his  store  daily  for  work. 

Mr.  Ditson  was  an  actively  benevolent  man. 
It  is  well  known  that  he  paid  the  expenses  of 
several  music  students,  enabling  them  to  study 
in  Europe.  His  more  private  benefactions 
will  never  be  known,  but  they  are  guessed  at 
by  his  friends.  His  methodical  habits  and 
practical  ways  of  economizing  time  were  strong 
traits  in  his  character ;  they  would  often  "  crop 
out  "  in  a  funny  manner,  and  a  little  story  may 
serve  to  illustrate  these  peculiarities. 

Mr.  Ditson  had  been  out  for  a  drive ;  the 


OLIVER  DITSON. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     117 

horses  had  bolted,  the  vehicle  was  wrecked, 
Mr.  Ditson  was  thrown  out,  his  left  arm  was 
dislocated,  and  his  whole  body  badly  bruised. 
He  was  picked  up,  and  surgical  assistance  put 
him  measurably  to  rights ;  but  he  was  forced 
to  keep  his  room  for  perhaps  four  days, — a 
long  time  to  be  absent  from  duty.  Finally  he 
returned  to  his  niche,  with  his  arm  in  a  sling, 
and  joyfully  resumed  work.  I  was  in  Vermont 
at  the  time  of  the  accident,  but  read  all  about 
it  in  the  newspapers.  Returning  to  the  city, 
I  hastened  to  learn  Mr.  Ditson's  condition. 
There  he  was  in  his  old  niche,  large  as  life, 
but  a  little  damaged  about  the  head,  with 
his  arm  in  a  sling.  Full  of  personal  sympathy, 
I  asked  him  to  tell  me  all  about  the  accident. 
Without  interrupting  his  writing  for  more 
than  a  second,  he  handed  me  a  sheet  of  paper 
on  which  he  had  written  a  full  history  of  the 
occurrence.  It  was  entirely  unnecessary  to 
ask  a  single  question.  I  offered  my  condo- 
lences, which  he  received  with  warm  thanks, 
and  took  my  leave. 

We  must  not  overlook  the  fact  that  the 
great  music  house  of  Ditson  &  Co.  remains 
with  us  as  a  truly  magnificent  monument  to 
the  name  of  Oliver  Ditson.  It  is  one  to  which 
every  citizen  of  Boston  can  point  with  pride ; 


IT 8    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

and  as  a  music-publishing  house  is  one  of  the 
largest  in  the  world.  Mr.  Ditson,  like  the 
majority  of  America's  great  merchants,  had  his 
"day  of  small  beginnings."  His  native  wis- 
dom served  him  to  very  good  purpose.  It  was 
but  natural  that  he  looked  with  honest  pride 
on  his  son  Charles  controlling  a  great  Ditson 
house  in  New  York  City,  and  his  youngest 
son,  Edward  (when  alive),  doing  the  same 
thing  in  Philadelphia. 

I  must  not  close  this  section  of  my  recollec- 
tions without  recalling  the  well-known  prince 
of  musical  editors, — John  Sebastian  D wight. 
His  kindly  face  and  form,  so  well  known  to 
Boston  people,  have  so  recently  left  us  that 
we  simply  think  that  the  good  man  has  just 
gone  away  for  a  little  while  on  a  journey,  and 
that  we  shall  certainly  see  him  again  in  his 
old  haunts.  We  get  so  accustomed  to  see 
certain  people  in  certain  places,  year  in  and 
year  out,  that  we  expect  to  see  them  there 
always.  We  were  so  sure  of  seeing  Mr. 
Dwight  in  his  invariable,  carefully  selected 
seat  in  the  left-hand  side  of  the  first  balcony 
of  Music  Hall,  that  now,  missing  him  from 
that  seat,  one  naturally  asks,  "  Where  is  John 
S.  to-night?"  In  this  way  beneficent  nature 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    119 

lets  the  recollections  of  our  dearest  friends 
slowly  fade  out  into  the  illimitable  confines  of 
memory. 

When  Mr.  Dwight  began  to  publish  his 
weekly  paper,  Dwight s  Journal  of  Music,  in 
1852,  it  was  pioneer  work — uphill  ploughing 
and  planting.  John  S.  was  ahead  of  his  time 
in  his  requirements  from  public  performers. 
He  was  to  us  young  fellows,  and  indeed  to  all 
artists,  at  once  a  spur  and  a  whip.  He  would 
never  compromise  with  anything  mean  or  com- 
mon in  music,  and  was  peculiarly  intolerant 
of  anything  of  the  "monster  jubilee"  order. 
From  his  standpoint  he  was  right.  He  had 
the  courage  of  his  convictions,  and  was  willing 
to  risk  going  without  salt  for  his  porridge 
rather  than  support  in  his  paper  any  work 
which  did  not  possess  the  element  of  refined 
merit. 

At  the  time  of  the  Boston  Jubilees,  which 
were  big  popular  affairs,  very  wonderful  in 
their  way,  with  an  army  of  guarantors  for 
their  financial  success,  the  people,  in  Mr. 
Dwight's  opinion,  were  largely  guarantors  for 
business  reasons  only.  That  was  sufficient  to 
draw  out  his  strongest  opposition  ;  he  could 
not  tolerate  the  Jubilees. 

Among  the  guarantors  was  the  noble,  large- 


120    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

hearted  Mr.  Oliver  S.  Ditson.  He  naturally 
wished  for  the  influence  of  Mr.  Dwight,  who, 
at  that  period,  was  employed  by  him  as  editor 
of  Dwighfs  Journal  of  Music,  published  by 
Mr.  Ditson.  Mr.  Dwight's  answer  was,  that  he 
had  sold  his  journal,  but  not  his  personal  or 
musical  opinions.  He  did  not  believe  in  mon- 
ster jubilees :  neither  does  any  refined  musi- 
cian. He  gave  the  Jubilees,  both  in  advance 
and  afterward,  the  benefit  of  his  (let  us  call  it 
mildly)  disapproval.  In  fact,  it  was  reported 
that  John  S.  Dwight  had  spent  the  week  of 
the  first  Jubilee  at  Nahant,  where  the  noise  of 
the  cannon  fired  off  to  accentuate  the  rhythm 
of  God  Save  the  Queen  (or  America,  whichever 
you  choose  to  call  it),  and  the  blows  on  the 
one  hundred  anvils  (sic/)  in  the  Anvil  Chorus 
from  //  Trovatore,  could  not  reach  his  ears  and 
torture  him. 

Mr.  Dwight  was  a  tender-hearted  man,  and 
a  thoroughly  cultured  alumnus  of  Harvard. 
He  had  been  one  of  the  founders  and  workers 
in  the  "  Brook  Farm "  experiment,  and  was 
certainly  a  good  sample  of  that  band  of  rare 
souls.  He  has  made  many  of  the  best  English 
translations  of  German  songs.  Examine,  if 
you  will,  Schubert's  Trockene  Blumen,  and  any 
of  the  Heine  songs  set  to  music  by  Robert 


JOHN  S.  DWIOHT. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    121 

Franz  or  Rubinstein.  His  poetic  and  musical 
nature  fitted  him  for  the  work.  The  service 
he  has  done  for  music  is  well  known  by  every 
musician.  With  pen  and  voice  and  every 
effective  influence,  he  kept  alive  the  Harvard 
Symphony  Concerts  for  quite  a  while  against 
the  current  of  indifference  which  was  setting 
in. 

As  before  said,  Mr.  D wight  in  his  musical 
proclivities  was  a  very  conservative  man.  One 
can  honestly  say  he  was  more  than  that, — he 
was  prejudiced.  He  was  a  determined  fighter 
of  the  Richard  Wagner  cult,  and,  it  is  said, 
found  no  merit  in  that  composer's  works.  His 
reverence  for  John  Sebastian  Bach,  Beethoven, 
Mozart,  and  other  old  worthies  does  him 
honor ;  but  when  a  man  can  find  no  grandeur 
in  Wagner,  no  beauty  in  the  Miserere  of  // 
Trovatore,  I  marvel. 

Every  thinking  musician  will  agree  with  me 
that  J.  S.  Bach  is  the  source,  the  fountain,  the 
inspiration,  the  evangel,  so  to  speak,  of  all 
which  is  great  in  music ;  that  Beethoven  is 
still  "  the  man  with  the  all-conquering  ideas," 
the  king ;  and  that  Mozart  with  his  lovely 
melodies,  his  astounding  contrapuntal  skill,  his 
great,  passionate,  dramatic  instincts,  may  per- 
haps in  those  qualities  never  be  excelled  ;  still, 


i22     Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

thank  God,  the  Giver  of  all  good  things,  the 
end  is  not  yet !  And  when  there  comes  a  man 
like  Wagner,  who  enlists  a  large  army  of  earnest 
disciples,  it  is  almost  incomprehensible  that, 
among  the  best  musicians  and  writers,  there 
can  be  found  many  who  are  exactly  of  the  J.  S. 
Dwight  way  of  thinking. 


CHAPTER  XV 

IN  early  days  our  Club  held  a  few  Mendelssohn 
birthday  festivals.  The  first  one,  February 
3,  1851,  given  in  the  Melodeon,  was  a  great  suc- 
cess. We  invited  as  guests  all  our  concert 
subscribers,  decorated  the  hall  tastefully,  and 
covered  the  face  of  the  balcony  with  white  cot- 
ton cloth  fringed  with  evergreen,  on  which,  in 
letters  nearly  a  yard  long,  was  the  legend  : 
"  Born,  Feb.  3,  1809.  Died  in  1847." 
The  stage  was  of  course  the  focus  of  our 
efforts.  We  had  borrowed  a  plaster  bust  of 
Mendelssohn,  placed  it  on  a  pedestal  festooned 
with  flowers,  and  put  it  at  the  front-centre  of 
the  stage.  Our  five  music-stands  were  also 
decorated  with  flowers.  Then  we  gathered  to- 
gether and  played  round  this  representative, 
so  to  speak,  patronymic  saint.  He  was  our 
idol ;  we  offered  him  our  adoration  and  homage. 
We  were  young,  and  certainly  sincere.  Satis- 
fied it  was  a  proper  thing  to  do,  we  did  it,  and 
had  no  mauvaise  honte. 

Nothing  of  that  nature  could  be  done  in  this 
123 


124    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

age.  It  would  be  called  childish — ridiculous 
perhaps.  People  are  matured,  blast  \  they  will 
run  no  risk  of  being  considered  ingenue.  We 
can  no  longer  burn  enthusiastic  incense  to  any 
earthly  idol. 

At  this  first  festival  an  epilogue  was  com- 
posed and  read  by  a  Danish  gentlemen,  at  that 
time  living  in  Lowell.  I  give  the  concluding 
lines : 

"  Great  Harmonist  !  Oh  let  the  spirit  wake 
Once  more  to  higher  strains  thy  sacred  harp  ; 
Methinks  I  feel  the  sacred  impulse — hark  ! 
I  hear  seraphic  sounds  :  what  notes  divine 
Breathe  through  the  ravished  air  !  My  rapt  ear  feels 
The  harmony  of  heaven.     Hail  sacred  choir  ! 
Immortal  spirits,  hail !  O  Mendelssohn  ! 
Be  this  thy  praise  :  to  lead  the  polished  mind 
To  virtue's  noblest  heights  ;  to  light  the  flame 
Of  German  freedom,  rouse  the  generous  thoughts, 
Refine  the  passions,  and  exalt  the  soul 
To  love,  to  heaven,  to  harmony,  and  thee." 

Mr.  John  S.  Dwight,  the  then  accomplished 
editor  and  critic  of  the  Commonwealth,  gives 
the  following  account  of  the  affair  : 

"  THE    MENDELSSOHN    COMMEMORATION 

"  The  musical  event  of  the  season,  at  least 
so  far  as  sentiment,  artistic  unity,  and  com- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     125 

pleteness,  selectness,  and  novelty  may  be  re- 
garded, came  off,  in  a  way  that  more  than 
realized  expectation,  at  the  Melodeon  on  Mon- 
day night.  It  was  a  pure  festival  of  art.  A 
beautiful,  sincere  German  enthusiasm  inspired 
it  and  adorned  it.  The  Quintette  Club, 
prompted  by  the  sentiment  of  the  occasion, 
had  sent  free  tickets  to  the  three  hundred  or 
more  subscribers  to  their  chamber  concerts. 
But  almost  thrice  that  number,  at  an  early 
hour,  were  seated  in  the  hall,  which  had  been 
tastefully  and  significantly  decorated.  In  large 
letters  of  evergreen  the  name  '  Mendelssohn ' 
was  displayed  upon  the  front  of  the  gallery, 
over  the  entrance,  and  on  either  side  '  Born 
Feb.  3,  1809,'  and  '  Died  in  1847.'  In  tne 
centre  of  the  circle,  focus  of  all  eyes  and  of  all 
thoughts, — that  is,  in  the  front  of  the  stage,  be- 
fore the  organ, — that  spot  so  often  occupied 
by  vain  and  showy  solo  players  who  seemed  to 
place  themselves  before  all  music, — now  rose 
the  calm,  pure,  classic  head  of  the  true  genius 
of  the  hour,  a  beautiful  bust  of  Mendelssohn, 
crowned  with  laurel.  We  confess  our  thoughts 
were  riveted  to  that  intellectual,  that  unspeak- 
ably beautiful  and  expressive  face,  in  whose 
fine  and  noble  features  one  felt  the  union  of  a 
masculine  dignity  and  firmness  with  almost  a 


126    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

woman's  feeling.  And  then  the  large,  clear, 
exquisitely  moulded  dome  of  thought,  the 
perfect  forehead !  To  tell  the  feelings  that 
rushed  through  the  mind  and  filled  it  all  that 
evening,  would  require  more  than  our  power 
of  expression.  It  should  be  a  poem. 

"  But  the  effect  was  first  complete  when  the 
five  young  artists,  with  their  instruments,  had 
seated  themselves  around  their  patron  saint, 
to  interpret  to  us  one  of  his  quintettes.  Then 
as  the  music,  his  own  music,  woke,  the  calm 
face  elevated  in  the  middle  of  the  group  seemed 
almost  to  open  its  eyes  and  move  its  lips ;  and 
who  did  not  feel  the  music  and  the  marble  to 
be  mutual  interpreters,  and  that  the  great 
composer  was  thus  doubly  present  to  us  !  The 
sentiment  of  the  thing  was  so  complete  that 
the  mind  involuntarily  hugged  the  spell ;  and 
any  voice  of  conversation,  even  when  a  strain 
was  finished,  seemed  an  interruption." 

We  duly  observed  many  Mendelssohn  birth- 
days, but  generally  in  private. 

It  may  be  worth  recording  that  we  got  up 
a  Beethoven  centenary  birthday  commemora- 
tion in  Bumstead  Hall.  We  had  the  best  of 
assistance  and  played  the  entire  septette,  op. 
20,  with  the  original  instruments,  the  piano 
trio,  op.  97,  in  B  flat  (Mr,  Lang  at  the  piano), 


FELIX  BARTHOLDY  MENDELSSOHN. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     127 

a  group  of  songs,  and  a  string  quartette.  We 
did  our  best.  It  was  a  sincere  offering,  and 
was  practically  the  last  concert  the  Mendels- 
sohn Quintette  Club  gave  in  Boston  on  its 
own  account. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

IN  September,  1850,  Jenny  Lind  gave  her 
first  concert  in  the  old  Castle  Garden,  at 
the  foot  of  Broadway,  New  York.  Tickets 
were  sold  at  five  dollars  each.  Large  amounts 
were  also  received  from  premiums,  and  there 
was  realized  from  that  first  concert  thirty-five 
thousand  dollars — official  record. 

Does  not  the  above  read  like  exaggerated 
nonsense  ?  Nevertheless,  it  is  true  history. 

In  1850  there  was  no  concert-room  of  de- 
cent size  uptown  in  New  York,  and  Mr.  P.  T. 
Barnum  was  allowed  to  alter  the  interior  of 
Castle  Garden  in  such  a  manner  as  to  fit  it  for 
his  purpose.  It  was  made  large  enough  to 
hold  between  six  and  seven  thousand  persons, 
the  old  circular  form  being  retained. 

Probably  a  year  in  advance  of  Jenny  Lind's 
advent  in  America,  Mr.  Barnum  began  to  pre- 
pare the  American  people  to  properly  receive 
"the  musical  saint,"  "the  second  Santa  Cse- 
cilia,"  "  the  angel  of  the  stage,"  "  the  most 
wonderful  singer  ever  listened  to  by  mortal 

128 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     129 

ears,"  etc.  A  regular  system  of  short  para- 
graphs and  lengthy  histories  was  thencefor- 
ward published  and  copied  far  and  near. 

Lind's  early  history  was  told  and  re-told : 
the  poverty  ;  the  tribulations  ;  the  childish  sing- 
ing-days in  the  streets  for  coppers  ;  her  singu- 
larly wonderful  voice  ;  heard  by  a  benevolent 
lady;  the  singer  "taken  up"  by  the  lady; 
placed  in  the  hands  of  a  music  teacher  ;  sent 
to  Garcia  in  Paris  ;  years  of  careful  training  ; 
preparations  for  the  opera  ;  on  the  point  of 
making  her  dtbut,  when, — presto  !  she  loses  her 
voice !  Then  for  two  long  years  her  life  was 
one  of  sadness,  patience,  resignation,  consola- 
tion, till  her  voice  returned,  better  than  ever. 
The  two  years  had  been  utilized  in  absorbing 
musical  knowledge.  Preparations  were  once 
more  made  for  the  public  dtbut.  The  dtbut 
was  a  great  success.  Paris  was  carried  by 
storm.  Henceforward  she  was  in  demand  in 
all  the  great  capitals.  Musical  Europe  lay  at 
her  feet.  London  went  wild  over  her.  It 
was  discovered  that  she  was  splendid  in  ora- 
torio (there  was  a  master-stroke).  I  cannot 
say  how  long  her  operatic  career  lasted,  but  I 
think  it  was  about  six  years. 

Then  she  began  to  be  serious-minded  ;  that 
period  was  doubtless  during,  and  by  reason 


130    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

of,  the  fortuitous  environment  of  the  Exeter 
Hall  devotees.  Meantime,  it  was  learned  she 
was  giving  her  wealth  away  to  poor  people, 
and  so  legitimately  earning  her  right  to  be 
considered  a  saint.  She  could  not  mingle 
with  theatre  folk  any  more,  and  she  renounced 
the  opera  at  the  period  when  her  ability  and 
her  fame  were  at  their  zenith. 

There  are  certain  threads  in  this  tabulated 
and  fabulated  history  which  were  facts.  Jenny 
Lind  did  give  up  singing  in  opera,  and  London 
was  "  in  sackcloth  and  ashes."  Deputations, 
remonstrants  from  the  most  aristocratic  ranks, 
even  royalty  itself,  pleaded  for  her  return  to 
the  opera,  but  in  vain. 

It  is  believed,  and  doubtless  it  may  be  true, 
that  there  was  a  time  when  the  powers  of 
good  and  evil  were  wrestling  for  her,  and  it 
was  thought  that  she  was  wavering  in  her  new 
view  of  life's  duties  ;  in  common  parlance,  that 
she  was  "  still  on  the  fence."  In  that  period 
of  doubt  the  opera  managers  redoubled  their 
efforts,  pathetically  picturing  the  financial  dis- 
tress into  which  she  had  plunged  them  by 
withdrawing  from  the  opera  at  a  critical  mo- 
ment ;  and  that  so  touched  her  soft  heart  that 
she  was  on  the  point  of  yielding.  But  when 
the  Exeter  Hall  people  heard  of  this  weaken- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     131 

ing,  they  quadrupled  their  attentions,  and 
finally  won  her  over  for  good. 

All  these  details  in  the  newspaper  histories 
had  in  them  a  share  both  of  truth  and  non- 
sense. Whether  true  or  false,  every  point  was 
a  good  theme  for  a  sermon  or  a  story,  and  they 
were  all  adroitly,  artistically,  diplomatically 
written  up  by  skilful  romancers  in  the  pay  of 
the  long-sighted  manager,  Mr.  Phineas  T.  Bar- 
num.  The  result  was  that  the  public  was  made 
to  believe  that  saints  and  angels  were  nowhere 
in  comparison  with  Jenny  Lind,  and  that  a 
hearing  of  her  singing  of  /  Know  that  my  Re- 
deemer Liveth  was  quite  evangelizing  in  its 
effect. 

She  did  sing  it  grandly,  and  with  a  fervor 
which  satisfied  every  musician.  Handel  him- 
self would  have  gone  down  on  his  knees  to 
thank  her  for  a  true,  devotional,  musician-like 
performance  of  that  fine  song. 

Let  us  now  consider  for  a  moment  what  the 
American  people  were  at  the  period  of  Lind's 
visit.  They  were  at  least  not  blase" /  they  did 
not  spend  their  summers  in  Europe,  conse- 
quently everybody  from  the  old  world  was 
looked  upon  as  a  trifle  superior.  The  gener- 
ality of  people  were  of  a  good,  church-going 
kind,  and  were  (we  do  not  say  it  in  any  depre- 


i32    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

elating  spirit)  rather  gullible,  especially  when 
the  appeals  were  in  the  line  of  their  faith  ; 
they  were  therefore  in  that  state  which  de- 
lights the  managerial  heart,  that  is,  ready  to 
swallow  every  statement  put  forth. 

After  a  year  of  Barnum's  industrious  prepa- 
ration, the  American  people  were  brought  up 
to  the  point  of  giving  very  high  prices  and 
big  premiums.  A  greater  excitement  about 
Jenny  Lind  and  a  stronger  desire  to  see  and 
hear  her,  were  aroused  than  have  been  manu- 
factured in  regard  to  any  other  mortal  man  or 
woman,  from  that  time  to  this,  in  any  land  on 
which  the  sun  shines.  Old  people  could  tell 
you  of  sacrifices  made  to  get  money  to  hear 
her  which  would  lead  you  to  think  they  were  all 
demented.  And  this  craze  was  not  confined 
to  the  seaboard  cities.  The  newspaper  no- 
tices had  been  copied  inland,  and  people  would 
travel  long  distances  to  hear  Jenny  Lind  if 
she  was  not  to  come  near  them. 

An  Ohio  friend  related  his  experience  to 
me.  Jenny  Lind  was  to  sing  in  Wheeling, 
West  Virginia,  and  he  lived  just  sixty  miles 
west,  towards  Columbus.  He  was  then  a  boy 
of  eighteen,  and  had  been  for  three  years  ap- 
prenticed to  a  clock-maker.  His  father  was  a 
clergyman,  with  a  large  family  and  small  sal- 


ANTON  HEKKINQ. 


Page  156 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     133 

ary,  and  though  a  warm-hearted  music  lover, 
was  too  poor  to  think  of  going  to  hear  Jenny 
Lind.  Father  and  son  had  read  together  a 
long  notice  of  the  approaching  song-festival  in 
Wheeling,  and  the  father  had  remarked  with 
a  sigh  of  resignation,  "  I  wish  I  could  hear 
her." 

The  son  determined  to  try  and  go  to  Wheel- 
ing for  that  purpose.  He  knew  it  was  use- 
less to  ask  his  father  for  money  or  permission, 
but  he  would  "get  there  all  the  same."  So 
he  started  off  one  morning  with  a  little  kit 
of  clock-tools  in  his  pocket,  but  not  daring  to 
say  anything  to  his  family.  He  walked  till 
noon  in  the  direction  of  Wheeling,  then  went 
into  a  farmhouse,  and  asked  if  they  did  not 
want  their  clock  repaired.  They  "  just  did  "  ; 
the  old  clock  had  not  run  for  two  years.  The 
expert  boy  put  it  in  running  order,  and  the 
old  farmer  was  so  pleased  that  he  gave  him  a 
Mexican  silver  dollar  and  a  good  dinner. 

In  short,  my  friend  spent  three  days  on  the 
road  to  Wheeling,  mending  clocks  by  the 
way  and  getting  a  little  money  for  each.  He 
reached  Wheeling,  paid  three  dollars  for  his 
concert  ticket,  heard  Jenny  Lind,  and  re- 
turned home  in  a  two  days'  march.  His  father 
asked  him  where  he  had  been,  and  he  answered 


134    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

that  he  had  walked  to  Wheeling,  mended 
clocks,  earned  money  to  hear  Jenny  Lind, 
and  was  happy.  The  father  saw  that  he  had 
a  son  who  was  made  out  of  good  stuff, 
embraced  him,  and  said  not  one  word  of 
reproof. 

I  had  a  personal  experience  which  will  stand 
as  evidence  of  the  high  price  of  tickets. 
When  Jenny  Lind  came  to  Boston  the 
excitement  was  at  high-water  mark.  The 
concerts  were  given  in  the  old  Tremont 
Temple,  which  would  hold  about  twelve  hun- 
dred persons.  I  was  playing  in  the  orchestra, 
and  doubtless  wrote  very  rapturous  letters  to 
a  certain  friend  describing  the  greatness  of 
her  singing. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  I  received  a  tele- 
gram from  my  friend,  who  lived  about  forty 
miles  from  Boston,  requesting  me  to  purchase 
three  seats  for  that  evening's  concert  and  meet 
him  at  the  train.  The  party  would  be  com- 
posed of  father,  mother,  and  daughter.  There 
is  no  harm  in  saying  now  that  I  entertained  a 
youthful  transient  passion  for  the  latter.  Were 
it  not  so  there  would  be  no  story  to  tell. 

I  quickly  ascertained  that  in  order  to  buy 
three  good  seats  I  must  have  forty-five  dol- 
lars— and  to  a  dead  certainty  I  did  not  have 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    135 

five  dollars  to  my  name.  It  was  a  most  em- 
barrassing position  for  a  young  "pretender." 
I  must  not  show  my  poverty,  or  my  chances 
would  be  slim.  I  had  few  acquaintances  save 
among  my  own  impecunious  kind.  Fortu- 
nately I  was  inspired  to  apply  to  Mr.  John 
Bigelow,  the  good  father  of  the  Mendelssohn 
Quintette  Club.  I  went  to  his  store,  then  on 
Washington  Street,  opposite  the  head  of 
Water  Street,  and  laid  the  telegram  on  his 
desk.  It  was  from  a  mutual  friend,  and  Mr. 
B.  looked  at  me  smilingly ;  then  he  read  it 
perhaps  twice,  and  a  great  light  broke  on  him. 
Taking  in  the  situation  he  said,  "  Well  Tommy, 
I  suppose  you  have  no  money "  ;  to  which  I 
answered  with  a  lightening  heart,  "  No,  sir." 
He  then  turned  to  his  brother  Alanson,  and 
told  him  to  give  Mr.  Ryan  forty-five  dollars. 
I  bought  the  tickets  and  met  the  friends. 

Most  people  think  that  the  selling  at  auction 
of  the  first  choice  of  seats  is  a  modern  idea. 
It  is  not  so  by  any  means  ;  for  most  distinctly 
there  was  an  auction  sale  for  Jenny  Lind's 
first  concert  in  Tremont  Temple,  Boston. 
The  first  choice  of  seats  was  run  up  to 
$640  and  was  bid  off  by  Ossian  E.  Dodge, 
a  comic  singer  who  used  to  travel  round 
the  country  giving  concerts  "  all  sole  alone," 


i36    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

accompanying  himself  on  a  guitar.  Mr. 
Dodge  shrewdly  bought  his  ticket  for  a 
business  purpose.  When  the  Lind  concert 
was  held,  it  is  questionable  which  one  of  the 
two  artists,  Jenny  Lind  or  Ossian  E.  Dodge, 
was  the  most  stared  at. 

Mr.  Dodge's  object  very  soon  declared 
itself ;  for  well-made  lithographs  of  him  could 
be  seen  in  many  of  the  shop  windows,  in  which 
he  was  posed  as  singing,  guitar  in  hand,  with 
the  legend  in  big  type  underneath,  "  Ossian 
E.  Dodge,  the  man  who  gave  $  640  for  the 
first  choice  of  seats  to  hear  the  great  diva, 
Jenny  Lind."  And  shortly  another  litho- 
graph appeared,  which  represented  Jenny 
Lind  in  the  act  of  being  introduced  by  P.  T. 
Barnum  to  Ossian  E.  Dodge,  the  great  comic 
singer.  I  think  that  will  pass  for  a  sample  of 
pretty  skilful  advertising.  Those  old  worthies 
could  give  points  to  us  moderns ;  for  we  can 
scarcely  show  anything  so  fine  in  its  line. 

To  return  to  the  musical  part  of  the  Lind 
visit  to  America,  Mr.  Barnum  had  engaged 
several  good  artists  who  were  in  keeping  with 
his  star.  Jules  Benedict,  the  conductor,  was 
a  composer  of  operas,  a  middle-aged  man,  of 
very  fatherly  aspect,  and  just  the  dignified 
person  required  to  hand  Jenny  Lind  on  and 


WULF  FRIES. 


Page  106 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     137 

off  the  stage.  He  was  of  fairly  good  musical 
reputation  and  an  experienced  man  in  all  mu- 
sical routine.  Signer  Salvi  was  one  of  the 
best  tenor  singers  living ;  Signer  Belletti  was 
a  very  fine  baritone  ;  and  Otto  Goldschmidt 
was  a  brilliant  pianist,  who  was  afterward  mar- 
ried to  Jenny  Lind.  There  was  always  a  grand 
orchestra. 

Jenny  Lind's  repertoire  during  her  Ameri- 
can tour  was  the  "  Casta  Diva,"  from  Norma  ; 
"  With  Verdure  Clad  "  and  "  On  Mighty  Pens," 
from  the  Creation;  a  cavatina  from  Beatrice 
de  Tenda,  by  Bellini  ;  the  great  song  with  two 
flutes  from  the  Star  of  the  North,  by  Meyer- 
beer ;  and  "  Non  mi  Dir,"  from  Don  Giovanni, 
by  Mozart.  She  also  sang  in  the  trio  from 
//  Barbier,  and,  with  Belletti,  the  duo  from 
LElisire  d'Amore,  and  a  great  variety  of 
the  Swedish  folk-songs.  With  the  latter  she 
nearly  always  ended  her  concerts. 

She  used  to  introduce  imitations  of  moun- 
tain echoes  in  the  Swedish  songs,  and  people 
said  she  did  it  ventriloquially,  but  I  have  al- 
ways maintained  that  it  was  done  by  very 
refined  pianissimo  singing. 

I  have  often  been  asked,  "  How  much  of  a 
singer  was  Jenny  Lind?"  I  can  say  she  de- 
served all  that  was  claimed  for  her,  unmusical, 


138    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

nonsensical  stories  excepted.  Her  voice  was 
of  extensive  range,  reaching  easily  to  D  in 
alt, — a  voice  of  veiled  quality  with  something 
of  the  essence  of  a  tear  in  it.  She  had  almost 
unlimited  execution,  sang  with  great  earnest- 
ness, and  did  everything  in  a  highly  finished, 
broad  style.  Such  pieces  as  the  "  Casta  Diva  " 
and  /  Know  that  my  Redeemer  Liveth  she 
sang  with  so  devotional  a  sentiment  that  she 
really  seemed  like  some  inspired  priestess  pro- 
claiming her  faith. 

Doubtless  many  people  in  Boston  will  re- 
member that  once  when  she  had  reached  the 
end  of  the  last-named  song  and  made  her  bow 
to  the  audience,  Daniel  Webster,  who  was  a 
listener,  arose  from  his  seat  in  the  audience, 
and  with  great  dignity  returned  her  bow. 

Her  intonation  was  perfect.  Benedict  had 
written  for  her  a  very  long  cadenza  to  fit  the 
end  of  a  cavatina  from  Beatrice  de  Tenda. 
The  cadenza  was  sung  without  accompaniment ; 
it  covered  two  pages  of  music  paper,  and  was 
written  in  a  style  suited  to  an  instrumental 
concerto.  Towards  the  end  there  was  a  se- 
quence of  ascending  and  descending  arpeggios 
of  diminished  sevenths  which  flowed  into  a 
scale  of  trills  from  a  low  note  to  one  of  her 
highest ;  then  dwelling  very  long  on  that  note 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     139 

and  trilling  on  it,  she  gradually,  tranquilly  re- 
turned to  the  theme  of  the  cavatina,  when  it 
was  perceived  that  her  wonderfully  fine  musical 
ear  had  unerringly  guided  her  through  the 
mazes  of  the  long  cadenza  and  brought  her 
to  the  tonic  note  of  the  piece  with  surprising 
correctness  of  intonation. 

I  think  she  was  not  overrated  when  called 
a  "  great  singer." 

The  desire  to  hear  Jenny  Lind  led  almost 
to  a  riot  at  her  final  concert  in  Boston.  After 
having  squeezed  out  of  the  people  all  the 
money  possible  at  high  prices,  the  astute  P.  T. 
Barnum  hired  the  upper  part  of  the  just  fin- 
ished Fitchburg  Depot.  About  one  third  of 
this  upper  floor  (which  was  only  one  story  up 
from  the  street)  was  utilized  for  the  railroad 
company's  offices,  and  they  were  on  either  side 
of  the  building,  with  a  wide  passage  way  in 
the  middle  which  led  to  the  hall.  The  offices 
were  made  simply  by  window  sashes  from  floor 
to  ceiling.  In  the  body  of  the  prepared  con- 
cert room  there  were  reserved  seats  for  about 
fifteen  hundred,  and  standing-room  in  the  pas- 
sage way  and  round  the  ends  of  seats  for  about 
three  hundred  more.  Rumor  asserted  that 
five  hundred,  or  even  one  thousand,  of  such 
"  standees  "  were  sold.  That  may  not  be  true, 


i4°    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

or  it  may  not  have  been  by  connivance  of  Mr. 
Barnum. 

The  concert  was  given  in  the  early  summer 
season,  warm  weather  prevailing.  Thousands 
of  persons  had  perched  upon  the  roofs  of  ad- 
joining buildings  and  coal-sheds,  and  the  streets 
round  the  depot  were  densely  packed.  The 
only  means  of  reaching  the  concert  room  were 
the  two  corkscrew  stairways  at  the  front  cor- 
ners of  the  building.  The  reserved  seat  ticket- 
holders  were  allowed  to  go  up  into  the  hall 
first.  Then  at  a  given  signal  the  dollar  stand- 
ees were  admitted.  There  was  one  grand  rush 
and  the  unreserved  space  was  filled  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye.  People  packed  themselves 
very  close,  and  yet  there  was  continually  a  cry 
of  "  Move  up  in  front ! "  with  an  awful  pressure 
from  behind  by  those  who  were  trying  to 
get  in  somehow,  having  paid  for  the  expected 
privilege. 

The  time  came  to  begin  the  concert.  The 
orchestra  played  the  overture,  of  which  prob- 
ably not  a  note  was  heard.  Then  came  Signer 
Belletti.  His  song  was  simply  pantomime  and 
"  dumb  show."  Next  came  Jenny  Lind.  It 
was  not  her  turn  to  sing,  according  to  the  pro- 
gramme, but  Benedict  brought  her  on  to  the 
stage,  thinking  her  appearance  would  still  the 


JENNY   LIND. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    141 

storm.  It  had  a  partial  effect.  She  sang  "  On 
Mighty  Pens,"  from  the  Creation.  Towards  the 
end  of  the  piece,  the  people  who  were  penned 
in  the  passageway  between  the  offices,  began 
to  suffer  from  heat  and  lack  of  air.  They 
smashed  the  glass  partitions,  and  climbed  in 
and  opened  the  windows.  The  fracas  and 
noise  of  breaking  glass  was  frightful.  A  large 
number  of  ladies  fainted ;  they  were  brought 
into  the  orchestra  anteroom,  and  very  soon 
overflowed  into  Jenny  Lind's  room,  so  great 
was  the  confusion. 

An  effort  was  made  to  go  on  with  the  pro- 
gramme, but,  to  the  best  of  my  recollection, 
there  was  not  another  note  heard  after  Jenny 
Lind's  song.  People  began  to  get  out  as  best 
they  could.  It  was  a  slow  process.  I  know 
that  we  of  the  orchestra  and  the  singers  got 
out  by  corkscrew  stairs  at  the  stage  end,  the 
steps  of  which  were  all  covered  with  mortar, 
laths,  and  pieces  of  joist.  Providentially,  the 
door  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  was  unlocked, 
and  we  reached  the  street  safely,  with  our 
instruments. 

According  to  report,  a  dense  mob  rushed  to 
the  Revere  House,  where  it  was  said  Barnum 
stopped,  but  P.  T.,  being  warned  of  the  com- 
ing storm  (also  according  to  popular  history), 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 


took  a  hack  out  to   Brighton   and  boarded  a 
night  train  for  New  York. 

It  was  currently  reported  that  from  three  hun- 
dred to  five  hundred  people  who  held  dollar 
admissions  had  not  been  able  to  even  reach  the 
corkscrew-staircase  entrance.  I  do  not  know 
whether  these  ticket  -  holders  ever  recovered 
their  money. 

Some  little  time  after  the  above  historic  occur- 
rence, Jenny  Lind  was  married  to  Otto  Gold- 
schmidt,  the  pianist,  in  Boston  ;  and  the  pair 
went  to  Round  Hill  in  Northampton,  Mass., 
where  they  spent  their  honeymoon. 

Our  Quintette  Club  had  an  engagement  to  per- 
form the  Class  Day  music  at  Amherst  College. 
By  invitation  of  Jenny  Lind  and  her  husband 
we  went  to  Northampton  a  day  in  advance  and 
spent  it  with  them.  We  certainly  had  a  most 
gracious  reception  and  enjoyed  much  music 
together.  Jenny  Lind  sang  all  kinds  of  songs 
for  us,  with  her  husband  at  the  piano.  Gold- 
schmidt  had  just  composed  a  concerto,  and  we 
tried  it  over  with  him  as  far  as  a  quintette 
accompaniment  would  reach  ;  it  was  its  first 
performance.  The  day  and  evening  were  en- 
joyable. The  following  morning  we  again  met 
and  had  a  little  more  music,  till  the  hour  came 
when  we  were  forced  to  say  our  farewells. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     143 

We  started  in  a  hack  for  Amherst,  eight 
miles  distant,  in  a  pouring  rain,  which  quickly 
made  the  deepest  kind  of  mud  on  the  alluvial 
plain  that  lies  between  Amherst  and  North- 
ampton. Our  music  trunk  was  tied  on  the 
rear  rack  of  the  vehicle,  and  when  we  were 
about  half-way  on  our  journey,  the  entire  frame 
broke  down,  and  the  trunk  fell  into  the  mud. 
The  driver  jumped  off,  rushed  to  a  farmhouse, 
got  a  rope,  bound  up  the  contrivance,  and  we 
started  again.  We  arrived  a  trifle  late  for  our 
work,  but  we  were  all  young,  and  such  mis- 
haps sit  lightly  on  young  minds.  Moreover 
we  were  too  full  of  Jenny  Lind  and  music  to 
be  depressed  by  any  cares  of  business. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

IT  may  have  been  two  years  after  Jenny  Lind 
came  to  America  that  we  had  a  visit  from 
Catherine  Hays,  or  Kate  Hays,  as  she  was  fa- 
miliarly called.  Her  company  had  Mr.  La- 
venu,  a  song  writer,  for  conductor.  I  cannot 
now  say  who  was  the  enterprising  manager. 
The  Barnum  tactics  were  imitated,  but  it  was 
not  possible  to  get  people  again  up  to  such 
fever  heat. 

Miss  Hays  was  a  good  singer,  and  her  com- 
pany was  comprised  of  good  artists,  among 
whom  was  a  fine  tenor,  a  son  of  old  John 
Braham,  of  "  sea  songs "  fame.  The  party 
made  no  financial  success. 

In  1853,  Madame  Sontag  came  to  Boston 
with  a  brilliant  company,  Carl  Eckert  being 
the  conductor.  Madame  Sontag,  at  the  time 
of  her  visit,  was  a  handsome  middle-aged 
woman,  reported  to  have  been  a  startling 
beauty  in  her  best,  younger  days,  when  it  was 
said  several  duels,  with  fatal  terminations,  had 
been  fought  on  her  account. 

144 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     145 

This  may  have  been  but  managerial  manu- 
factured romance.  Most  managers  seem  to 
think  that  the  adroit  use  of  such  stuff  is  abso- 
lutely needful  to  create  interest.  Perhaps  they 
are  right,  from  their  standpoint.  But  it  is 
discouraging  to  conscientious  performers  to 
know  that  they  are  considered  of  small  ac- 
count if  they  are  simply  good  artists  whom 
cruel  fate  has  tempted  to  remain  good,  honest 
citizens,  and  who  have  never  prowled  on  soci- 
ety or  "  raised  Cain  "  in  any  shape. 

When  the  Sontag  party  first  arrived  in 
America  they  had  with  them  the  fine  boy  vio- 
linist, Paul  Jullien.  I  think  he  was  about  fifteen 
years  of  age  at  that  time.  He  played  mainly 
Alard  and  Leonard  pieces,  and  played  them 
very  brilliantly.  When  the  company  had  made 
a  limited  concert  tour,  attended  with  indifferent 
success,  it  was  reorganized  into  an  operatic 
enterprise  and  the  boy  violinist  returned  to 
Europe.  I  think  his  career  was  closed  by  death. 

I  remember  distinctly  Sontag  in  her  best 
role,  "  La  Fille  du  Regiment."  She  was  a  most 
attractive  picture  in  her  vivandikre  costume, 
with  the  drum  hanging  from  her  neck  by  a 
"  sling,"  and  as  she  was  a  good  drummer  she 
won  enormous  success.  She  was  certainly  a 
fine  actress  and  an  excellent  singer. 


146    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Carl  Eckert,  the  conductor,  is  mainly  re- 
membered and  known  by  our  younger  gener- 
ation of  singers  as  the  composer  of  the  Swiss 
Echo  Song,  written  expressly  for  Madame 
Sontag. 

Madame  Alboni  was  the  next  very  fine 
singer  who  visited  America.  Oh,  what  a  glo- 
rious contralto  voice  was  hers  !  It  was  of  a 
silk-velvet  quality  (if  I  may  be  allowed  to  use 
such  a  figure  of  speech),  with  deeply  sympa- 
thetic, expressive  tones  resembling  very  mark- 
edly the  lovely  reedy  tones  of  a  violoncello. 
Moreover,  what  technical  wonders  Alboni 
could  accomplish  with  that  voice  !  Her  color- 
ature  in  songs  like  Una  Voce  created  the  same 
effect  as  a  Carnaval  de  Venise  performance  on 
the  violin. 

Alboni's  position  in  the  European  musical 
world  was  high.  Her  personal  temperament 
was  of  the  genial,  bonhomie  quality.  She  seemed 
always  to  be  in  a  most  happy  humor,  as  if  spe- 
cially made  to  create  joy  around  her.  It  was  of 
her  that  Berlioz,  who  doubtless  was  a  cruel  critic 
in  his  imperative  art-demands,  said  that  what 
she  needed  to  make  her  one  of  the  greatest 
singers  that  ever  lived,  was  to  have  a  husband 
who  would  beat  her  daily  and  make  her  ut- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     147 

terly  wretched.  She  would  then  be  able  to 
infuse  into  special  rdles,  with  fine  effect,  some 
of  the  sorrow  so  salutarily  beaten  into  her  by 
the  suppositious  brute  of  a  husband. 

But,  Hector,  just  stop  a  minute  and  think  it 
over.  How  could  you  wish  that  such  a  glo- 
rious creature  as  Alboni  might  pass  through 
an  experience  like  that,  merely  to  make  a 
more  artistic  "  Parisian  holiday  ! "  Perish  the 
thought !  There  are  enough  sad-eyed  women 
in  the  world  to  satisfy  the  majority  of  men. 
Relent,  Hector,  relent ;  let  happy  natures  re- 
main happy,  to  diffuse  the  warmth  and  light 
of  sunshine  about  them.  Rather  let  us  get 
along  without  sad  music  and  turned-down 
lights. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

IN  May,  1854,  I  was  married.  In  the  autumn 
we  began  housekeeping  in  Dix  Place,  near 
Eliot  Street,  Boston.  We  had  certain  neigh- 
bors who  became  our  lifelong  friends.  I  single 
out  for  brief  mention  one  family,  by  reason  of 
the  great  public  interest  then  and  now  attend- 
ing the  different  members  thereof. 

Our  home  was  directly  opposite  the  house 
in  which  lived  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  Lloyd 
Garrison  with  their  four  sons  and  one  daugh- 
ter, and  certainly  it  was  one  of  the  interesting 
happenings  of  my  life  that  for  two  years  we 
could  enjoy  friendly  intercourse  with  the  fa- 
mous abolitionist, — the  "hounded  man,"  the 
man  who,  perhaps,  next  to  John  Brown,  had 
most  truly  acted  up  to  the  spirit  of  his  convic- 
tions. He  had  even  then  a  growing  army  of 
adorers,  and  certainly  a  very  large  one  of 
haters.  What  he  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
those  haters  is  too  well  known  to  need  any 
chronicle  here.  I  only  know  that  Mr.  Garrison 
was  for  me  a  political  idol ;  but  I  choose  to 

148 


WILLIAM  LLOYD  GARRISON. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     149 

speak  now  simply  of  his  charming  personality 
in  his  social  and  domestic  relations. 

In  his  family  he  was  the  beau-ideal  of  a  lov- 
ing husband  and  father.  It  was  peculiar  and 
delightful  to  see  him  enter  his  house,  hang  up 
his  coat  and  hat,  and  proceed  as  if  he  were  a 
newly  arrived  lover.  Whatever  amount  of 
friction  he  may  have  encountered  in  the  outer 
world,  it  was  at  once  forgotten.  His  demeanor 
to  the  members  of  his  family  revealed  a  most 
sweet  and  loving  disposition. 

Mrs.  Garrison  was  a  good  reflection  of  her 
husband's  character.  Indeed  I  used  to  think 
she  was  a  kind  of  saint,  because  she  was  like 
a  good  mother  in  our  family  when  our  first 
daughter  was  born.  I  gave  piano  lessons  to 
their  little  girl,  Fanny,  who  in  time  became  the 
wife  of  Mr.  Henry  Villard.  The  sons  of  Mr. 
Garrison  have  given  a  good  account  of  them- 
selves. The  third  son,  Wendell  Phillips  Gar- 
rison, has  been  for  many  years  the  editor  of 
The  Nation. 

Naturally,  I  had  the  opportunity  to  become 
acquainted  with  many  of  the  rank  and  file  of 
(in  the  common  parlance  of  that  day)  "  those 
d—  — d  abolitionists"  who  acknowledged  Mr. 
Garrison  as  master.  All  these  people  were 
really  of  a  peculiar  type,  most  thoroughly  un- 


150    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

selfish,  idealists, — "  cranks,"  if  you  please  ; 
otherwise,  people  with  a  religion  which  set 
them  to  working  for  the  good  of  others. 

It  was  also  in  the  natural  order  of  things 
that  if  I  knew  Mr.  Garrison  I  should  know 
Theodore  Parker.  I  regard  it  as  a  piece 
of  great  good  fortune  to  have  been  in  the 
world  at  that  period,  and  to  have  heard  that 
fearless  preacher.  Those  were  the  times  be- 
fore the  Civil  War,  when  clergymen  and 
others  were  often  mobbed  because  they  re- 
vealed the  iniquity  of  human  slavery.  Parker 
and  Wendell  Phillips,  when  they  preached  or 
lectured,  often  required  a  body-guard  to  es- 
cort them  from  their  homes  to  the  Boston 
Music  Hall  and  back.  It  seems  almost  an 
incredible  story,  but  it  is  true  history,  well 
known  in  Boston. 

Closely  allied,  in  one  sense,  with  all  those 
good  souls,  was  the  well  beloved  Rev.  Thomas 
Starr  King,  pastor  of  the  Hollis  Street  Church. 
What  a  bright  man  he  was,  and  how  anima- 
ting in  his  pulpit  utterances  ! 

He  was  passionately  fond  of  music.  I  re- 
member that  when  Mr.  J.  Trenkle  was  organ- 
ist of  the  church,  it  was  part  of  the  musical 
programme  that  after  the  second  hymn  the 
organist  should  make  an  extensive  improvisa- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     151 

tion  or  play  some  set  piece  of  fine  music.  Mr. 
King  believed  it  was  as  worthy  a  jubilate  as 
any  human  speech  could  utter  ;  and  that  good 
music,  artistically  given,  attuned  his  moral  and 
mental  faculties  to  a  fine  spiritual  state,  and 
invigorated  him  for  the  sermon  yet  to  be 
delivered.  It  is  clear  that  he  was  inspired  in 
that  belief,  and  many  years  ahead  of  a  large 
share  of  the  human  family. 

We  must  not  overlook  one  historical  fact : 
that  Rev.  Thomas  Starr  King  was  unofficially 
sent  out  to  California  to  keep  that  State  in 
the  Union.  He  succeeded  in  his  undertak- 
ing, as  has  been  recorded  by  better  pens  than 
mine.  I  simply  wish  to  express  my  joy  in 
having  known  him,  and  having  been  for  a  while 
under  his  fascinating  influence. 

I  recall  with  great  pleasure  the  time  when 
I  had  the  honor  of  working  in  collaboration 
with  Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  in  an  attempt 
to  make  a  national  hymn.  A  short  time  after 
President  Lincoln's  call  for  troops,  Dr.  Holmes 
did  me  the  honor  of  coming  to  see  me  at 
my  rooms  in  the  Pavilion  on  Tremont  Street. 
After  mutual  greetings,  the  Doctor  said  that 
his  friend,  Mr.  William  Schultze  (our  Quintette 
Club  first  violin),  under  whose  able  tuition  he 
was  studying  the  violin,  had  told  him  that  Mr. 


i52    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Ryan  was  just  the  man  to  make,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  him,  a  hymn  acceptable  to  the  peo- 
ple. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  Civil  War 
had  just  begun,  and  calls  were  made  through 
the  newspapers  for  a  national  song ;  it  was 
said  that  we  could  no  more  dispense  with  it 
than  we  could  with  a  flag.  A  group  of  patriots 
in  New  York  City  had  offered  a  prize  for 
such  a  hymn.  Dr.  Holmes  thought  we  ought 
to  try  for  the  prize.  I  was  eager  to  do  my 
share.  To  collaborate  with  such  a  man  was 
an  honor  and  a  personal  delight. 

Our  modus  operandi  was  first  to  select  a 
strongly  marked  march-rhythm,  then  he  was  to 
write  a  few  verses  to  fit  it,  and  when  that  was 
satisfactorily  done  I  was  to  write  an  original 
melody  to  his  words.  The  plan  was  good 
and  practical.  For  the  rhythm  I  selected 
Washington  s  March.  Then  Dr.  Holmes 
began  work. 

He  was  a  "chain-lightning"  poet  in  his 
rapid  invention  of  verses.  Furnished  with 
pencil  and  paper,  he  sat  at  the  table  and  I 
sang  with  a  good  lusty  voice  the  melody  of 
the  march  ;  singing  it  alternately  slow  or  quick, 
soft  or  loud.  After  a  few  trials,  he  "  caught 
on  "  to  the  rhythm  and  quickly  found  the  cor- 


MRS.  WILLIAM   LLOYD  GARRISON.  Page  149 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     153 

responding  poetical  measure.  From  that  mo- 
ment he  went  on  making  verses ;  and  the 
rapidity  with  which  he  changed  words,  ideas, 
and  poetic  figures,  transposed  lines,  dropped 
certain  trains  of  ideas  and  brought  out  stronger 
ones,  was  extraordinary  to  me.  The  verses 
grew  under  his  fingers  as  rapidly  as  one  might 
write  an  ordinary  epistle, — the  Doctor  singing 
or  humming  the  melody,  or  beating  the  rhythm 
on  the  table. 

We  spent  perhaps  an  hour  in  these  researches 
or  exercises  till  the  Doctor  had  covered  perhaps 
two  pages  of  foolscap  with  his  rough  drafts. 
He  then  left  me,  taking  them  with  him,  and 
in  a  few  days  he  brought  me  a  pencilled  copy 
(which  I  have  kept)  of  the  first  verse  and 
chorus  that  he  had  finally  "whipped  into 
shape,"  and  which,  he  said,  satisfied  his  judg- 
ment. Later  on,  he  brought  the  entire  hymn 
written  with  ink  (which  I  now  have),  five 
verses  in  all,  entitled  Union  and  Liberty. 
Under  that  caption,  the  hymn  was  printed 
later,  and  afterward  included  in  a  collection 
of  his  poems. 

I  give  the  first  verse  only  : 

"  UNION  AND  LIBERTY. 
"  Flag  of  the  heroes  who  left  us  their  glory, 
Borne  through  their  battle-fields'  thunder  and  flame, 


154    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Blazoned  in  song  and  illumined  in  story, 
Wave  o'er  us  all  who  inherit  their  fame  ! 

Up  with  our  banner  bright, 

Sprinkled  with  starry  night, 
Spread  its  fair  emblems  from  mountain  to  shore  ; 

While  through  the  sounding  sky 

Loud  rings  the  nation's  cry, — 
Union  and  Liberty,  one  evermore  !  " 

We  then  tried  to  make  another  set  of  verses 
of  a  less  strongly  marked  martial  rhythm.  I 
quite  forget  the  melody  they  were  to  fit,  but 
it  was  to  be  rather  slow,  like  the  Austrian 
Hymn. 

The  poet  made  six  verses  and  a  chorus, 
entitled  Freedom,  our  Queen,  beginning  with, 

"  Land  where  the  banners  wave  last  in  the  sun." 
This   set  of  verses  is  also   published  among 
his  poems. 

We  sent  on  our  attempts  to  New  York,  as 
doubtless  many  other  people  did,  but  nothing 
ever  came  of  it.  No  answer  was  returned,  no 
examination  made,  no  prize  awarded,  so  far  as 
we  could  learn.  We  had  our  pleasant  labor  for 
our  pains.  But  I  prize  the  memory  of  having 
collaborated  with  one  of  America's  greatest 
poets. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

T""\OUBTLESS  it  will  be  of  interest  to  some 
-•— ^  of  our  old  friends  to  have  the  various 
changes  in  the  membership  of  the  Mendelssohn 
Quintette  Club  indicated.  The  first  to  retire 
was  Edward  Lehman  (flute).  He  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Gustav  Krebs.  The  next  was  Francis 
Riha  (violin),  succeeded  by  Carl  Meisel.  This 
latter  was  an  honored  member  for  about  twenty 
years.  He  was  a  fine  violinist,  a  man  of 
charming  personal  character,  and  is  still  alive, 
working  in  his  profession  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia. 

About  the  tenth  year,  August  Fries  retired 
on  account  of  ill  health,  and  was  succeeded  by 
William  Schultze,  the  former  concert-master  of 
the  Germania  Musical  Society.  Schultze  re- 
mained our  first  violin  for  about  twenty  years. 
During  this  period  Mr.  Wulf  Fries,  'cellist,  re- 
tired after  an  honorable  service  with  the  Club 
of  twenty-three  years.  Mr.  Fries  is  still  an 
active  worker,  and  lives  in  Roxbury.  He  was 
succeeded  by  Rudolph  Hennig,  who  remained 

155 


i56    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

for  about  eight  years,  and  was  replaced  by 
Fritz  Giese  for  five  years.  Then  there  were  a 
few  temporary  changes  of  'cellists  till  Anton 
Hekking  came.  It  is  to  be  seen  that  the  Club 
has  had,  from  first  to  last,  the  best  of  'cellists 
to  help  make  its  reputation. 

When  Meisel  retired,  he  was  succeeded  for 
four  years  by  the  excellent  violinist,  Carl 
Hamm.  Then  came  Gustav  Dannreuther, 
well  known  in  the  musical  world,  who  is  now  in 
New  York  City,  at  the  head  of  a  quartette  club 
bearing  his  name.  He  was  succeeded  by  the 
well-known  and  popular  violinist,  C.  W.  Allen, 
Thiele,  and  others. 

During  the  period  of  these  changes,  various 
good  flautists,  such  as  Beyer  and  Goering,  were 
with  us.  Next  came  the  brilliant  flautist,  Ed- 
ward Heindl,  who  played  with  us  for  twelve  or 
thirteen  years,  and  was  replaced  by  Schade 
(latterly  with  the  Boston  Symphony),  who  was 
followed  by  Henneberg,  and  Rodenberg  up  to 
date. 

When  we  lost  our  first  violin,  Schultze,  we 
lost  one  of  the  most  genial  men  with  whom  I 
ever  came  in  contact.  He  was  not  only  a  fine 
violinist,  but  an  excellent  general  musician,  a 
devoted  student  of  literature,  quite  a  linguist, 
an  inexhaustible  story-teller,  a  generous-hearted 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     157 

man,  and  always  a  gentleman  in  the  fullest 
sense  of  the  word. 

Schultze  left  us  to  accept  a  professorship  in 
the  Wesleyan  University  at  Syracuse,  N.Y.,but 
after  a  few  years  of  service  he  had  a  paralytic 
stroke,  from  which  he  only  partly  recovered, 
though  he  managed  to  work  a  few  years  longer. 
One  morning  in  1890,  while  playing  the  violin 
at  a  recital,  his  vital  forces  suddenly  gave  out 
and  he  almost  fell  to  the  floor.  His  friends 
came  to  his  assistance,  but  the  good  spirit 
which  had  been  such  a  source  of  pleasure  to 
them  had  quitted  its  earthly  tenement.  He 
died  just  as  a  good  man  would  wish  to  die,  in 
harness  and  surrounded  by  his  pupils. 

Mr.  S.  Jacobsohn  replaced  Schultze  for  two 
seasons.  He  was  a  splendid  violinist,  a  grand 
player  in  quartette.  He  could  play  with  a 
tender  sentiment  quite  surpassing  all  players 
I  have  ever  heard,  without  exception ;  and  when 
fully  aroused  he  became  a  passionate  player. 
Altogether  he  was  a  master  artist. 

The  Club,  so  far  as  good  playing  goes, 
reached  "  high-water  mark  "  with  Jacobsohn  as 
first  violin.  The  members  at  that  time  were  : 
S.  Jacobsohn,  Gustav  Dannreuther,  Thomas 
Ryan,  Edward  Heindl,  Rudolph  Hennig. 
We  had  in  addition  the  contrabassist,  Alex- 


158    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

ander  Heindl,  for  two  years  ;  also  Mr.  Manoly 
for  the  same  length  of  time,  both  gentlemen 
being  virtuosi  on  the  contrabass.  At  the  end 
of  these  four  years  we  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  we  were  simply  giving  ourselves  a  musical 
gratification ;  the  public  at  large  never  appre- 
ciated the  increase  of  tone,  so  for  financial  rea- 
sons we  gave  up  the  contrabass. 

Mr.  Bernard  Listemann,  the  brilliant  violin- 
ist, replaced  Jacobsohn  for  one  season.  Then 
came  Edward  Heimendahl  for  two  seasons,  an 
excellent  man  and  violinist,  with  marked  ability 
as  a  composer.  He  was  succeeded  by  the  re- 
markably fine  violinist,  Mr.  Isidor  Schnitzler, 
at  present  one  of  the  first  violins  and  soloist 
of  the  Boston  Symphony. 

One  episode  in  the  Club's  history  may  be  of 
some  little  interest.  We  arrived  one  morning 
in  a  certain  Michigan  town,  and  were  met  at  the 
railroad  station  by  a  friend  of  long  standing. 
In  a  very  serious  tone  of  voice  he  informed  me 
that  another  good  friend  of  the  Club,  a  'cello 
amateur,  was  so  far  gone  in  consumption  that 
his  physician  and  family  had  given  him  up ;  he 
would  probably  die  during  the  day.  The  ex- 
pected visit  of  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette 
Club  had  apparently  kept  him  alive ;  he 
wanted  to  hear  the  Tema  con  Variazioni  from 


RUDOLPH  HENNIQ. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     159 

the  Schubert  D-minor  Quartette  before  he 
gave  up  the  ghost.  He  had  placed  a  sum  of 
money  in  the  teacher's  hands  to  pay  us. 
Would  we  gratify  him  ? 

The  situation  quite  shocked  me.  I  said, 
"  Of  course  we  will  play,  but  don't  talk  of 
money." 

The  sick  friend  was  at  the  same  hotel  in 
which  we  were  to  be  quartered.  The  plan  was 
for  us  to  play  in  a  room  at  some  little  distance 
from  his,  but  with  both  doors  open.  He 
wanted  the  music  to  reach  his  ears  as  a  last 
sweet  echo  of  his  departing  musical  pleasures. 

We  prepared  to  play  very  soon  after  our 
arrival  at  the  hotel.  To  me,  who  knew  the 
young  man  well,  it  was  a  very  solemn  moment. 
To  play  under  such  circumstances  required 
some  self-possession. 

On  a  lower  floor  in  the  hotel  lay  a  brother 
of  the  sick  man  who  was  also  in  a  rapid  de- 
cline, and  very  near  death.  The  mother  was 
in  attendance  at  his  bedside.  Scarcely  had 
we  reached  the  middle  of  the  piece,  when  a 
messenger  from  the  mother  came  to  request 
us  to  stop,  for  the  brother  down-stairs  was  so 
affected  that  she  feared  immediate  death. 
We  ceased  playing.  This  latter  brother  died 
during  the  ensuing  night ;  but  the  one  who 


160    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

wanted  the  music  lived  on,  and  some  favorable 
change  occurred  which  gave  him  a  fresh  lease 
of  life, — good  for  some  years  after  the  time  he 
thought  he  was  to  hear  his  parting  Swan  Song. 

This  unique  masterwork  of  Franz  Schubert 
has  always  been  the  one  oftenest  asked  for, 
and  I  must  mention  one  other  solemn  occa- 
sion when  we  had  to  play  it.  A  young  lady 
died  in  Dorchester  who  had  been  one  of  our 
earnest  friends  and  music  lovers.  She  left  a 
sum  of  money  with  her  brother  in  order  that 
he  might  engage  the  Quintette  Club  to  play  cer- 
tain selections  at  her  funeral.  She  had  planned 
the  entire  function.  We  played  in  a  room  ad- 
joining the  parlor  where  the  religious  service 
was  held.  We  began  with  the  Swan  Song, 
playing  it  with  muted  strings.  That  was  fol- 
lowed by  prayer.  Then  we  played  one  of  the 
Seven  Last  Words  of  Christ, — music  composed 
for  string  quartette.  Next  the  burial  service 
was  read,  followed  by  addresses  from  friends  ; 
and  we  ended  the  exercises  by  playing  another 
of  the  Seven  Last  Words. 

This  was  certainly  an  occasion  when  firm- 
ness and  composure  were  needed.  Imagine 
having  to  play  music  of  such  technical  diffi- 
culty at  such  a  time,  in  such  a  situation,  where 
the  burden  of  the  song,  "  Death  and  the 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     161 

Maiden,"  had  its  counterpart  in  the  adjoin- 
ing chamber,  for  there  was  death,  and  there 
also  was  the  maiden. 

I  knew  that  the  girl  during  the  brief  span 
of  her  life  had  a  very  elevated  and  spiritual 
love  for  music ;  it  spoke  to  her  as  nothing 
else  did.  And  her  brother  told  me  she  was 
steadfast  in  the  belief  that  she  would  be  pres- 
ent in  spirit  during  these  last  earthly  rites, 
and  would  again  hear  the  music  she  loved  so 
well. 

Knowing  these  facts,  I  was  greatly  affected 
while  playing.  They  kept  surging  through 
my  thoughts  and  brought  me  to  the  very 
verge  of  sobbing.  When  we  first  began,  I 
must  say,  in  familiar  language,  it  was  "just 
awful."  I  shall  never  forget  it,  and  hope  never 
to  pass  through  a  similar  experience. 


CHAPTER  XX 

IN  the  year  1859,  the  Quintette  Club  made 
its  first  concert  trip  to  Philadelphia,  Balti- 
more, and  Washington,  accompanied  by  Mrs. 
J.  H.  Long,  a  fine  soprano,  of  Boston.  The 
trip  was  successful,  and  we  made  an  impres- 
sion which  encouraged  us  to  repeat  the  ven- 
ture many  times.  This  little  concert  tournte 
was  practically  our  first  playing  outside  of 
New  England.  It  seemed  to  us  a  very  grand 
thing  to  give  publicly  advertised  concerts  in 
those  large  cities,  and  to  attract  good  audi- 
ences. All  was  new  and  interesting. 

One  experience  is  worth  relating.  I  had  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  Mr.  X.,  a  great  man 
of  the  period,  the  publisher  and  editor  of  the 
principal  Washington  newspaper.  Calling  to 
see  him  on  the  day  of  the  first  of  our  two  con- 
certs in  the  old  Willard  Hall,  I  was  courteously 
received,  and  after  I  had  explained  the  motive 
of  my  call,  I  expressed  the  hope  that  he  would 
send  a  reporter  to  the  concert  that  evening  so 
as  to  have  a  detailed  report  in  the  next  morn- 

162 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     163 

ing's  paper,  and  thus  help  us  to  a  full  house  on 
the  second  night.  The  good  old  gentleman 
replied  that  his  daughter  was  the  only  person 
whom  he  could  trust  to  write  musical  notices 
for  his  paper.  She  was  not  in  very  good 
health,  but  if  she  could  not  attend  the  con- 
cert he  would  have  something  written  up  for 
the  morning's  issue  without  fail. 

The  concert  attracted  a  fair  attendance,  and 
gave  evident  pleasure.  In  next  morning's 
paper  we  found  the  "  something  without  fail " 
in  the  shape  of  a  glowing  article ;  but, — mir- 
dbile  dictu ! — we  were  all  singers  instead  of 
players  ! — a  kind  of  Hutchinson-family  arrange- 
ment ;  that  being  the  sort  of  music  then  most 
enjoyed  by  the  public. 

The  notice  in  question  contained  ecstatic 
praise  of  the  soprano,  and  also  of  the  sympa- 
thetic alto,  declaring  that  so  good  a  voice  had 
never  before  been  heard  in  Washington.  The 
tenor  "  had  the  true  timbre  of  a  tenor  voice," 
—there  was  no  suspicion  there  of  a  light 
baritone.  The  bass  was  "  a  really  organ-like 
support  for  the  beautiful  musical  superstruc- 
ture." The  concert  was  quite  an  ideal  one, 
etc. 

These  are  not  the  exact  words,  perhaps,  but 
they  are  the  substance  of  the  notice,  which  I 


1 64    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

now  have,  filed  away  in  my  treasury  of  funny 
happenings. 

It  did  us  good  service,  nevertheless,  and  we 
had  a  full  house  the  second  night.  Probably 
if  we  had  been  described  as  a  club  of  instru- 
mental players,  composed  of  "  four  violins  and 
a  bass  "(which  is  the  musically  intelligent  way 
in  which  we  are  often  even  now  depicted),  our 
fate  would  have  been  sealed  in  Washing- 
ton. Classic  music  is  still  caviare  to  many 
people,  and  thirty-six  years  ago  it  was  a 
thing  of  dull  and  dubious  character  to  the 
uninitiated. 

As  years  rolled  on,  people  from  the  western 
states  who  had  heard  our  club  play  in  or 
around  Boston,  often  asked,  "  Why  don't  you 
come  out  West  ?  " 

Accordingly  I  made  practical  inquiries  in 
regard  to  a  concert  trip,  and  received  encour- 
aging replies.  Still  I  thought  it  would  not  be 
safe  to  try  it  unless  we  had  some  "  star  "  with 
us,  to  add  to  our  attractions.  We  finally 
reached  the  venturing-point,  and  engaged  as 
stars  Miss  Adelaide  Phillips,  the  well-known 
contralto,  and  Camille  Urso,  the  distinguished 
lady  violinist.  We  were  managed  by  Harry 
McGlennen,  the  well-known  advertising  man- 
ager, so  long  at  the  Boston  Theatre,  and 


CAMILLE  URSO. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     165 

made  a  short  trip  of  three  or  four  weeks,  meet- 
ing with  good  success. 

Madame  Urso  deserves  something  more  than 
a  mere  passing  mention.  She  is  easily  the 
most  remarkable  violin  player  who  ever  came 
to  America  and  made  her  home  among  us.  I 
well  remember  her  as  she  appeared  at  her 
dtbut  in  Jonas  Chickering's  piano  rooms. 
She  was  then  a  little  girl  of  eleven,  with  the 
same  sad  and  interesting  face  that  she  has 
now.  Yet,  when  not  playing,  she  is  full  of 
fun,  and  her  conversation  is  richly  humorous. 

Her  playing  as  a  child  was  very  artistic. 
She  made  her  d£but  in  the  "  Fantaisie  "  on  // 
Pirate,  by  Artot,  accompanied  by  her  father  on 
the  piano,  and  she  won  an  immediate  success. 

Her  career  is  too  well  known  to  demand 
any  detailed  account  from  me,  but  I  wish  to 
emphasize  the  fact  that  she  has  made  constant 
progress  in  her  art.  She  has  played  all  the 
modern  masterworks,  the  great  concertos,  in 
the  principal  concerts  in  New  York,  Boston, 
and,  indeed,  in  all  the  larger  cities  from  Maine 
to  California,  and  she  is  still  earning  laurels. 

She  has  played  so  often  with  our  club,  and 
I  know  her  fine  points  so  well,  that  it  is  not 
easy  for  me  to  speak  of  her  playing  except  in 
unqualified  eulogy. 


1 66    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

To  return  to  my  narrative,  after  that  trial-trip 
I  decided  that  it  was  a  safe  thing  to  undertake 
a  travelling  concert  season,  and  that  we  did 
not  need  "  stars  "  to  attract  audiences.  Indi- 
vidual star  singers  and  players  had  been  heard 
everywhere  in  the  West ;  ensemble  playing  was 
the  novelty.  We  prepared  for  the  long  sea- 
son's travel,  and  engaged  one  of  our  charm- 
ing home  singers  to  accompany  us,  Miss  Addie 
S.  Ryan  (not  a  daughter  of  mine,  as  many 
imagine).  She  had  a  rich  and  very  sympathetic 
voice,  was  a  good  all-round  singer,  and  very 
"  taking "  in  ballads.  She  became  a  great 
favorite  wherever  heard. 

The  financial  result  of  the  long  season  of 
travel  was  good,  and  for  many  years  we  made 
similar  trips,  and  (which  will  surprise  many 
persons)  without  the  help  of  any  advance 
agent.  All  details  and  arrangements  for  our 
appearance  in  towns  and  cities  were  made  by 
correspondence.  To  be  sure,  it  kept  me  busy, 
but  the  West  of  that  period  was  not  the  West 
of  to-day.  To  a  certain  degree  we  had  the 
entire  western  country  to  ourselves.  There 
were  no  other  musical  people  travelling. 
There  were  very  many  minstrel  companies 
(which  did  not  injure  us),  and  a  few  dramatic 
troupes.  We  were  in  demand  everywhere ; 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     167 

the  main  trouble  was  to  get  dates.  Money 
was  plentiful, — every  one  was  "  flush  "  after 
the  war. 

Before  long  we  began  to  have  imitators, — 
either  in  '63  or  '64.  The  first  musical  organiza- 
tion to  follow  in  our  wake  was  the  "  Redpath 
Parlor  Opera  Company,"  organized  in  Boston. 
It  was  a  quartette  of  good  home-singers.  Clara 
Nickels  was  the  soprano,  Flora  Barry  the  alto, 
Charles  Clark  the  tenor,  Edward  Payson  the 
bass  and  John  A.  Howard  the  pianist.  They 
began  first  as  a  concert  company,  and  after- 
ward wisely  turned  into  a  parlor  opera  com- 
pany, doing  acts  of  either  Martha  or  Don 
Pasqitale.  They  were  very  successful  and  in  a 
little  while  they  in  their  turn  had  imitators. 

Little  by  little  companies  enlarged  their 
personnel  till  the  full-fledged  affair  appeared 
and  captured  the  country  with  Pinafore. 
I  gladly  turn  over  to  future  historians  this 
line  of  the  divine  art  of  music,  knowing  that 
they  will  have  a  "  nice  little  job  "  to  keep  track 
of  the  numberless  big  and  little  opera  com- 
panies who  are  now  actively  competing  with 
each  other  in  the  struggle  for  existence. 

In  1868  the  Club  was  in  Chicago.  The  time 
had  come  when  I  could  no  longer  dispense 
with  the  services  of  an  advance  agent, — com- 


1 68    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

petition  was  becoming  active.  I  secured  a 
good  one  in  Mr.  D.  H.  Elliot,  who  was  a 
Georgian  by  birth,  and  had  been  a  Confederate 
officer  of  marked  ability.  I  found  him  to  be  a 
man  of  wonderful  managerial  resources,  so  I 
let  him  have  free  rein. 

He  opened  with  a  brilliant  coup.  A  big 
political  convention  was  being  held  in  the 
Crosby  Opera  House.  Elliot  had  five  thous- 
and little  "  dodgers  "  made  of  gossamer  paper, 
four  by  six  inches  in  size,  on  which  was  printed : 
"  The  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club  of  Boston, 
the  most  wonderful  body  of  instrumentalists  in 
America,  will  soon  arrive  in  Chicago,  and  will 
play  for  one  week  in  the  Crosby  Opera  House. 
Tell  your  friends  the  joyful  news."  At  a  given 
moment  during  the  convention,  these  five  thou- 
sand little  bits  of  paper  (like  Chinese  printed 
prayers)  came  fluttering  down  from  the  cupola 
of  the  opera  house  to  all  parts  of  the  assembly. 
Everybody  grabbed  for  them,  and  a  point  was 
gained.  The  daily  papers  exploited  the  joke, 
and  excited  enough  interest  to  give  us  six 
good  houses  for  one  week.  We  paid  two 
hundred  dollars  per  night  for  the  opera  house. 
That  fact  now  reads  like  a  fairy  tale.  Those 
were  great  times  after  the  war  ;  everybody  had 
money  and  spent  it  right  royally. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     169 

I  must  relate  another  exploit  of  our  brave 
ex-Confederate  soldier.  We  had  made  a  little 
summer  concert  trip  to  Niagara  Falls,  and  gave 
one  or  two  concerts.  It  is  to  be  remembered 
that  immediately  after  crossing  the  bridge  over 
the  rapids  to  Goat  Island,  there  used  to  be  a 
small  paper  mill  on  the  right-hand  side,  the 
walls  of  which  were  built  directly  on  the  edge 
of  the  wild,  rushing  waters.  Elliot  often  did 
the  unexpected  thing.  This  time  he  went  into 
the  office  of  the  paper  mill,  and  asked  if  they 
had  any  objection  to  his  putting  up  a  poster 
for  a  concert  on  the  walls  of  the  mill  over  the 
rapids.  They  laughed  derisively  and  said  they 
had  no  objection, — "  Go  ahead." 

We  were  using  as  advertising  material  at 
that  time,  a  long,  showy  streamer — each  letter 
a  full  sheet — which  bore  in  black  letters  shaded 
by  red  on  a  white  ground,  "  Mendelssohn 
Quintette  Club  of  Boston."  It  was  a  stunning 
thing ;  it  could  be  read  five  miles  distant. 

Elliot  borrowed  a  skiff,  put  all  his  pasting 
and  other  materials  into  it,  hired  some  good, 
reliable  men  to  assist,  and  got  the  skiff  across 
the  bridge  and  into  the  water.  He  then 
boarded  it,  with  one  man  to  help,  and  his 
other  assistants  on  shore  paid  out  a  long 
rope,  to  which  the  boat  was  attached,  until  it 


1 70    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

reached  the  wall,  on  which  he  pasted  up  every 
letter  and  returned  to  terra  firma  in  safety. 
It  was  a  crazy,  dangerous  thing  to  do,  but  it 
paid.  Everybody  went  to  see  the  poster, 
which  could  be  read  easily  at  the  old  Grand 
Trunk  Railway  bridge,  two  miles  distant,  and 
all  along  the  Canada  shore.  The  desired 
point  was  gained  ;  it  excited  all  kinds  of  re- 
marks, and  I  believe  remained  upon  the  wall 
for  two  years.  The  paper  and  paste  were 
good,  and  no  one  cared  or  dared  to  risk  get- 
ting it  down. 

Another  story  characteristic  of  Elliot  is 
worth  telling.  At  Geneva,  N.  Y.,  a  minstrel 
troupe  had  just  preceded  us.  Their  pictorial 
bills  were  still  up,  depicting  the  minstrels  in 
full  artistic  action  on  the  stage.  The  local 
bill-poster,  infatuated,  doubtless,  with  "  them 
lovely  pictures,"  and  hating  to  cover  them  up, 
as  they  were  so  aesthetically  ornamental  to  the 
town,  conceived  the  idea  of  pasting  our  big 
streamers  directly  above  them,  and  our  three- 
sheet  bills  on  each  side,  thus  making  an  exact 
frame  for  their  picture.  To  all  appearance,  the 
whole  thing  was  one  show, — the  Mendelssohn 
Quintette  Club  were  the  minstrels,  or  the  min- 
strels were  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club, 
just  as  the  casual  passer-by  might  infer. 


D.  H.  ELLIOT. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     171 

Elliot  was  so  pleased  with  the  complete- 
ness of  the  unwonted  combination,  that  he 
borrowed  from  the  poster-man  his  working 
clothes,  dressed  up  in  them,  got  the  paste- 
bucket,  brush,  and  ladder,  took  up  a  position 
at  the  side  of  the  picture,  pointed  to  it  with 
evident  admiration,  and  had  a  photographer 
take  a  shot  at  the  whole,  and  thus  made  it 
immortal. 

Mr.  Elliot  was  a  good,  level-headed  Ameri- 
can. After  travelling  for  us  two  years  he  de- 
termined to  settle  down  and  begin  work  for  a 
permanent  home.  He  has  been  for  some 
years  in  Florida,  and  is  one  of  Mr.  Plant's 
right-hand  men,  which,  as  may  be  known,  means 
very  much.  Morever,  the  State  of  Florida 
sent  him  to  the  Paris,  Vienna,  and  Columbian 
Expositions,  to  show  up  its  resources. 

Our  old  agent  still  often  travels  long  distances 
to  see  and  hear  us  ;  then  we  have  a  good,  square 
chat  and,  like  old  soldiers,  we  go  over  the  skir- 
mish-lines and  battle-fields  once  more. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

IN  1872,  as  our  Club,  individually  and  collec- 
tively, were  tired  of  travelling  and  of  being 
away  so  much  from  our  families,  we  determined 
to  try  to  establish  ourselves  again  in  Boston. 
With  ample  preparation  and  all  the  thought 
we  were  capable  of  concentrating  on  the  work, 
we  three  men,  Mr.  Schultze,  Mr.  Heindl,  and 
myself,  began  the  venture  of  establishing  the 
"  National  College  of  Music." 

We  had  a  faculty  of  genuine  artists,  com- 
prising :  Vincenzo  Corillo  from  the  Royal  Mu- 
sic School  in  Naples,  principal  vocal  teacher; 
Mr.  Charles  Hayden,  assistant ;  and  Mr.  B.  J. 
Lang,  head  of  the  piano  department.  The 
assistant  piano  teachers  were  all  brilliant 
young  men  whom  Lang  had  taught  and  de- 
veloped, namely  :  Mr.  Geo.  W.  Sumner,  well 
known  and  beloved  as  organist  for  seventeen 
years  at  the  Arlington  Street  Church,  Mr. 
Hiram  Tucker,  Mr.  W.  F.  Apthorp,  Mr. 
Dixie,  and  Mr.  J.  Q.  Adams.  All  these  men 
would  naturally  teach  according  to  the  Lang 

172 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     1 73 

method,  and  that  certainly  was  a  commenda- 
ble system.  As  teachers  of  string  instru- 
ments, we  had  of  course  the  Quintette  Club. 

We  held  a  matinee  of  classic  music  every 
Saturday,  and  the  pupils  were  expected  to  be 
present.  Those  who  were  capable  of  playing 
ensemble  music  had  therefore  frequent  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  it  with  the  Quintette  Club. 
The  same  privilege  was  given  to  singers. 

Our  plans  were  all  right,  and  we  started  off 
with  goodly  numbers, — not  far  from  two 
hundred  pupils.  In  October,  just  one  month 
later,  the  great  Boston  fire  occurred  ;  and  it 
made  everybody  poor.  The  majority  of  the 
pupils  were  from  the  city  or  neighborhood, 
and  over  one  half  of  them  were  forced  to 
notify  us  that  they  could  not  continue  their 
attendance  another  term.  The  fire  really 
killed  our  school.  We  worried  along  to  the 
end  of  the  year,  met  our  losses  as  best  we 
could,  and  returned  to  our  old  system  of 
travelling, — in  short,  "  took  to  the  road"  again. 

A  fearful  amount  of  time  is  spent  on  rail- 
road trains  while  jogging  from  town  to  town 
in  our  country  of  great  distances.  At  first  it 
is  novel  enough,  with  its  ever-changing  kalei- 
doscope of  experiences,  to  make  the  time  go 
quickly  ;  but  when  the  second  or  third  season 


174    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

of  such  travel  comes  round,  what  a  "  demnition 
grind "  it  is !  The  very  disagreeable  people 
one  sometimes  meets,  the  waiting  at  junctions, 
the  unwholesome  food,  the  running  of  trains 
at  very  unseasonable  hours,  as  far  as  the 
traveller's  comfort  is  concerned, — all  these 
make  a  sum  total  of  petty  miseries  which  is 
very  considerable.  In  such  circumstances,  if 
some  one  comes  along  who  at  once  shortens 
the  hours  and  sweetens  the  life, — even  to  the 
limited  extent  of  making  one  forget  the  worst 
part  of  it, — that  person  is  a  very  welcome  com- 
panion. 

Just  such  a  desirable  person  entered  our  car 
one  dull,  rainy  day  on  the  New  York  Central 
Railroad, — a  very  attractive  lady  lecturer  and  a 
marvellously  fine  story-teller.  She  employed 
so  much  verve  and  action  in  her  narrations 
that  one  could  almost  see  the  scenes  described. 
Knowing  her  well,  I  was  delighted  to  meet 
her  again  and  to  learn  that  we  were  to  be 
travelling  companions  for  some  hours. 

Every  story-teller  knows  there  are  two  kinds 
of  listeners, — the  simply  attentive  listeners, 
and  the  encouraging,  inspiring  ones.  On  the 
day  in  question,  I  must  have  been  of  the  latter 
kind,  for  my  friend  unreeled  story  after  story, 
in  most  of  which  she  figured  as  principal ;  and 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     175 

I  am  sure  she  invented  nothing,  though  pos- 
sibly she  may  have  added  a  little  coloring 
matter.  The  stories  are  too  good  not  to  put 
one  or  two  in  print  for  future  Bunsbys.  For 
the  sake  of  convenience  I  will  call  the  lady 
"  Miss  A." 

She  had  been  engaged  to  lecture  in  a  rather 
small  town  in  Northern  Illinois,  and  it  was 
her  first  visit  to  that  section  of  country.  On 
account  of  some  misunderstanding  as  to  the 
hour  of  arrival,  there  was  no  committee-man, 
with  welcoming  face,  to  meet  her.  To  a  lady 
lecturer  travelling  alone,  words  of  welcome 
and  regretful  farewells  coupled  with  the  "hope 
that  we  shall  have  you  again  next  year,"  con- 
stitute the  greater  part  of  her  reward, — omit- 
ting for  the  moment,  if  you  please,  the  tender 
little  check  received  after  the  work  is  done. 

Finding  no  one  to  meet  her,  and  know- 
ing the  name  of  the  hotel  where  she  was  to 
stop,  Miss  A.  was  the  first  one  to  enter 
its  waiting  'bus,  and,  taking  one  of  the  seats 
farthest  from  the  door,  she  awaited  further 
developments.  In  a  few  minutes  two  ladies 
entered,  who  eyed  her  wonderingly  and  ex- 
changed glances  and  remarks  in  a  way  that 
was  not  sweetly  comforting — soon  interrupted, 
however,  by  the  entrance  of  several  men  with 


176    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

musical  instruments.  The  newcomers  also 
looked  questioningly  at  Miss  A.,  but  business 
was  evidently  on  hand,  for  they  began  to  take 
out  their  instruments  from  bags  and  cases.  Miss 
A.  also  noticed  that  a  man  spread  a  cover  of 
fringed  white  cloth  over  each  horse,  bearing 
some  legend  which  she  could  not  make  out, 
and  ornamented  with  designs  of  an  artistic 
nature  at  the  corners,  groups  of  banjos,  man- 
dolins, fiddles,  triangles,  flutes,  castanets,  etc. 
Then  the  men  opened  the  windows  in  the  'bus, 
and  "  the  band  began  to  play." 

Just  imagine  the  young  lady  lecturer  shrink- 
ing into  her  corner,  the  stunning  noise  of  ten 
or  twelve  brass  instruments,  reinforced  by  a 
big  bass  drum  on  the  roof  of  the  stage,  every 
blow  on  which  seemed  to  strike  her  on  the  top 
of  her  head,  and  also  to  act  on  the  honest,  staid 
horses  like  a  bunch  of  exploding  firecrackers 
tied  to  their  tails.  Away  they  flew  and  al- 
most brought  about  the  crack  of  doom  to  the 
'bus  and  its  occupants.  The  bandmen,  how- 
ever, taught  by  previous  experiences,  perceived 
that  a  fifty  measures'  rest  would  be  a  good 
thing  just  then,  and  stopped  playing  until  the 
horses  quieted  down.  After  a  while  they  be- 
gan again,  and  as  the  man  on  top  thumped 
mezzo  forte  this  time  the  horses  seemed  only 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    177 

to  be  rejuvenated  by  the  sweet  sounds  and 
behaved  decorously. 

The  cortege  went  pretty  much  all  over  town, 
and  finally  halted  at  the  hotel.  The  bandmen 
and  the  two  ladies  got  out  of  the  'bus.  Miss  A., 
summoning  up  all  the  life  that  was  left  in  her, 
and  separating  herself  from  the  crowd,  got  out 
with  all  becoming  dignity.  The  landlady,  who 
was  evidently  waiting  for  her,  came  forward, 
received  her  very  cordially,  and  conducted  her 
to  a  cosy,  charming  room,  where  she  fluttered 
and  flattered  with  an  impressement  that  only 
one  woman  can  show  to  another. 

Finally  she  left  her,  saying  that  tea  would 
be  ready  soon,  and  she  would  meet  her  at  the 
dining-room  door.  The  poor  martyr,  thankful 
for  the  momentary  quiet,  gave  vent  to  her 
pent-up  anguish  in  a  woman's  usual,  blessed 
way, — namely,  tears, — bemoaning  the  fate 
which  had  sent  her  on  the  road  to  drift  about 
among  such  scenes  and  people. 

The  soothing  influence  of  quiet  and  rest 
soon  restored  her  composure,  and  she  de- 
scended to  the  dining-room.  Duly  met  by  the 
landlady,  she  was  conducted  to  a  separate  ta- 
ble, where  covers  for  two  were  laid,  and  it 
really  was  a  "  nice  spread."  The  good  hostess, 
who  had,  unasked,  fastened  herself  on  Miss  A. 


178    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

as  a  companion,  chatted  and  buzzed  and  amused 
her  greatly. 

The  repast  over,  the  landlady,  evidently  with 
some  unusual  pleasure  still  in  anticipation, 
conducted  Miss  A.  to  her  room.  Unable  to 
contain  herself  any  longer,  she  burst  out  with, — 

"  Now,  I  want  to  see  your  gowns." 

"  My  gowns !  what  gowns  ?  " 

"Why,  your  stage  gowns." 

"  My  stage  gowns  !  I  have  no  other  gowns 
than  the  one  I  have  on." 

"But" — in  a  very  pleading  tone — "where 
are  your  play-gowns  for  the  stage  ?  " 

"  Play-gowns  !  Oh,  I  see !  there  is  some 
mistake .  I  don't  play." 

"  Don't  you  belong  to  the  show?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  I  'm  not  up  in  the  art-world  like 
that.  I  am  only  a  humble  lecturer,  and  am  to 
speak  in  the  church  to-night." 

This  confession  fairly  caused  the  landlady 
to  turn  pale  and  gasp  for  breath.  The  full 
extent  of  the  fraud  she  had  practised  on  herself 
was  so  great  that  it  completely  robbed  her  of 
power  to  speak ;  but  it  brought  an  expression 
of  disgust  and  contempt  into  her  countenance 
which  was  more  scathing  than  a  diction- 
ary's whole  store  of  epithets.  Turning  her 
back  on  Miss  A.  she  vanished  from  view,  and 


Page  85 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     179 

did  not  show   herself   again   while  that  lady 
stayed  at  the  hotel. 

The  scene  of  another  story  was  laid  in  a  re- 
mote section  of  Wisconsin.  A  (very)  "  Young 
Men's  Society  "  were  to  hold  a  series  of  lec- 
tures for  the  first  time  in  their  town,  and  Miss 
A.  was  to  open  the  course.  When  she  stepped 
out  of  the  warm  and  comfortable  car,  she  real- 
ized very  quickly  that  it  was  a  cold,  wintry 
day,  little  adapted  to  the  reception  that  had 
been  planned  for  her.  The  entire  society, 
some  twenty  in  number,  had  delegated  them- 
selves to  meet  the  lecturer,  and  they  were 
drawn  up  in  line  on  the  sidewalk  like  a  mili- 
tary company.  The  leader  came  forward,  led 
Miss  A.  to  the  line,  and  ceremoniously  intro- 
duced her  to  every  Brown,  Smith,  Jones,  etc., 
of  them  all.  This  duty  done,  he  wiped  his 
brow  and  looked  around  as  if  for  some  one  to 
tell  him  what  to  do  next.  Miss  A.  suggested 
that,  as  it  was  so  very  cold,  she  would  like  to 
go  to  her  hotel.  The  company  escorted  her 
to  a  one-horse  sleigh,  waiting  near,  the  leader 
handed  her  in, — the  young  men  watching  every 
motion, — got  in  himself,  and  then  with  that 
true  though  timid  gallantry  characteristic  of 
the  rural  young  American,  offered  her  the 
reins.  She  thanked  him,  but  declined  on  the 


i8o    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

ground  that  he  probably  knew  the  way  and 
the  horse  better  than  she  did. 

When  evening  came,  the  whole  youthful 
regiment  was  on  hand  to  escort  Miss  A.  to  the 
little  theatre  where  the  lecture  was  to  be  given. 
The  house  was  packed.  She  took  off  her 
wraps  and  followed  her  leader  to  the  stage, 
which  was  decorated  with  a  small  table,  a 
pitcher  of  water,  and  a  tumbler.  There  was 
also  a  long,  old-fashioned  settee,  with  legs 
under  the  middle  and  at  either  end.  Tak- 
ing a  seat  at  the  farther  end  she  noticed  that 
it  tilted  down  with  her.  Presently  a  large, 
heavily  built  clergyman  came  on  to  the  "stage, 
sat  down  on  the  other  end  of  the  settee,  and 
up  she  went,  her  feet  no  longer  touching  the 
floor.  Everybody  laughed.  The  tilting  was 
great  fun  to  the  good-natured,  honest,  typical 
country  audience. 

Having  nothing  else  to  do,  Miss  A.  scanned 
the  assemblage.  Foremost,  leaning  his  folded 
arms  on  the  edge  of  the  stage,  was  a  young 
man  in  a  red  flannel  shirt  (probably  one  of  the 
fire  company),  who  watched  all  her  movements 
with  the  most  careful  attention,  never  once 
taking  his  eyes  from  her.  Finally  the  reverend 
gentleman  arose  rather  suddenly,  letting  Miss 
A. 'send of  the  settee  down  with  a  thud,  which 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    181 

brought  out  another  good-natured  laugh  from 
all  parts  of  the  house.  The  reverend  gentleman 
began  the  proceedings  with  a  long-winded 
introductory  speech,  under  which  infliction  the 
audience  grew  more  and  more  restless,  until  the 
young  man  in  the  red  shirt,  unable  to  hold  in 
any  longer,  blurted  out,  "  Dry  up,  old  man,  and 
give  the  young  gal  a  chance ! "  Whereupon 
the  prologue  came  to  an  end  and  the  lecture  was 
delivered  without  further  incident. 

Miss  A.  told  me  a  third  story,  which  reveals 
her  good  and  generous,  but  impulsive  charac- 
ter. She  was  engaged  to  lecture  in  a  college 
town  in  Ohio,  and  was  met  at  the  station  by  one 
of  the  professors,  at  whose  house  she  was  to  be 
entertained.  On  the  way  thither  the  gentleman 
expressed  his  sentiments  in  regard  to  women's 
rights  in  so  offensive  a  way  that  he  roused  in 
her  the  strongest  kind  of  an  antipathy.  He 
was  so  opinionated  and  arrogant  that,  to  use 
her  own  words,  "  He  set  all  my  woman's  blood 
boiling  when  airing  his  opinions."  I  inferred 
that  the  unlucky  man  had  been  "  in  for  it," 
and  had  unquestionably  received  the  punish- 
ment that  she  was  quite  competent  to  give. 

Arriving  at  the  house,  Miss  A.  inquired  for 
her  hostess,  and  the  gentleman  replied  that 
she  was  busy  preparing  supper.  She  had  a 


1 82    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

large  number  of  boarders — students — and  was 
attending  to  her  duties  "  as  a  good  housewife 
should "  (strongly  emphasized) ;  by  which 
speech  the  man  of  course  floundered  deeper 
into  Miss  A's  disesteem. 

In  due  time  a  messenger  came  to  Miss  A.'s 
room  to  say  that  tea  was  ready  and  they  were 
"  waiting  prayers."  Miss  A.  replied  that  she 
would  wait  till  the  lady  of  the  house  could  see 
her.  That  must  have  raised  a  breeze,  for  the 
good  housewife  soon  came  up,  in  breathless 
haste.  The  picture  which  Miss  A.  had  men- 
tally conjured  up  of  the  lady  fitted  her  perfectly. 
She  was  a  thin,  anxious,  nervous,  overworked 
woman.  After  a  minute's  conversation  the 
two  ladies  descended  to  prayers  and  tea. 
While  at  the  tea-table  Miss  A.  tried  her  best  to 
draw  out  the  lady  hidden  in  the  drudge,  to 
help  her  to  be  properly  esteemed  by  all  present, 
and  to  have  them  understand  that  the  wife  was 
filling  an  honorable  position  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  though  she  had  previously  prepared  the 
food  with  her  own  hands. 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  Miss  A. 
modestly  expressed  the  hope  that  her  hostess 
would  be  pleased  with  her  lecture. 

"  Oh,  dear  me,"  was  the  answer,  "  I  cannot 
go  !  I  have  too  much  to  do.  I  have  no  help, 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     183 

and  I  must  wash  and  put  away  the  tea  things, 
etc." 

Miss  A.  replied  that  she  would  help  her  do 
all  that, — and  in  fact  there  would  be  no  lecture 
that  evening  if  she  did  not  go  with  her.  Miss 
A.  carried  her  point,  sent  for  a  hack,  and  took 
the  lady  to  and  from  the  lecture,  totally  ignor- 
ing Mr.  Pomposity.  Her  lecture  being  on  the 
subject  of  righting  women's  wrongs,  she 
thought  it  was  as  well  to  begin  righting  them, 
or  fighting  for  them,  then  and  there. 

I  remember  telling  Miss  A.  of  a  certain  ex- 
perience of  my  own  which  is  possibly  worth 
repeating. 

Calling  one  day  on  the  City  Attorney  of  a 
small  town  in  Northern  Illinois,  and  waiting  in 
his  office  for  a  little  transaction  to  be  effected 
between  the  attorney  and  a  caller,  I  noticed 
on  the  mantelpiece  two  well-known  statuettes, 
one  representing  a  "  Cavalier,"  the  other  a 
"  Roundhead,"  both  illustrative  of  English  his- 
tory. Examining  the  Cavalier  I  saw  a  small 
inscription  on  its  base  which  puzzled  me.  It 
was  "  General  Grant."  The  make-up  of  the 
figure  was  that  of  a  cavalier  soldier,  with  a 
large  felt  hat  and  feather,  an  arquebus  on  the 
left  shoulder,  a  sword  at  his  side.  The  Round- 
head had  cropped  hair,  surmounted  by  a 


1 84    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

leather,  pot-like  head-covering,  and  his  right 
hand  grasped  a  long  Cromwellian  sword, 
point  straight  down.  On  the  base  of  this 
figure  was  written,  "  General  Butler." 

Knowing  the  figures  and  their  significance, 
I  turned  to  the  attorney  and  asked  for  the 
"  joke."  "  Well,"  said  he,  with  a  hearty  laugh, 
"  I  Ve  had  my  money's  worth  of  fun  from 
those  little  things,  which  I  bought  from  a 
travelling  art  dealer,  little  dreaming  of  the 
endless  questions  and  explanations  they  would 
require.  One  day,  before  I  affixed  those  gener- 
als' names,  a  good  honest  rustic  asked,  '  What 
be  them,  anyway  ? '  I  said,  '  I  suppose  you  have 
heard  of  the  statutes  of  Illinois?'  He  said, 
"Yes."  I  said,  "Well,  them's  'em,"  and  that 
satisfied  him.  Very  soon  I  perceived  that  I 
must  have  some  other  plan  to  permanently 
switch  off  remark,  so  I  attached  the  names. 
One  caller  very  closely  examined  the  figures, 
and  after  some  cogitation  he  remarked,  "  I 
did  n't  think  Grant  looked  like  that,  but  Butler 
is  just  splendid ;  any  one  can  see  it  is  like 
him." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

IT  may  be  well  to  say  that  I  am  not  undertak- 
ing to  write  the  musical  history  of  the 
United  States,  nor  even  of  Boston  ;  but  I  be- 
lieve the  Jubilees  are  as  worthy  of  being  put 
on  record  as  would  be  a  first  performance  in 
America  of  the  Parsifal  by  Richard  Wagner ; 
though  in  comparison  with  the  latter,  the 
Jubilee  music  is  like  a  boy  compared  with  a 
man.  But  without  the  first,  the  other  could 
not  be.  Parsifal  is  the  man  fully  grown  (some 
think  he  is  the  ne plus  ultra),  while  the  Jubilees 
represent  the  boy, — the  tearing,  rowdy  young 
fellow,  in  his  first  stage  of  musical  growth. 

There  are  musical  people  of  the  present  age 
who  ask,  "  What  were  those  Jubilees  you  talk 
about  ?  "  Some  of  them  may  add,  "  I  find  in 
my  good  mother's  library  a  stack  of  chorus 
music  marked  '  The  Jubilee  Collection  ' ;  and 
among  those  pieces  are  works  written  by  our 
native  composers,  together  with  great  ora- 
torios and  some  trash.  What  does  it  all 
mean  ?  When  did  the  Jubilees  occur?" 

185 


1 86    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

I  will  try  to  answer  those  questions,  premis- 
ing that  there  could  not  have  been  Jubilees 
without  Patrick  Sarsfield  Gilmore ;  and  we 
must  know  his  history  to  know  that  of  the 
Jubilees. 

It  is  well  understood  that  all  talented  men 
are  of  Irish  parentage,  for  that  naturally  in- 
cludes the  present  writer  (!)  as  well  as  Mr.  Gil- 
more, — or  rather  "  P.  S.,"  as  all  his  friends  called 
him.  As  a  boy  he  lived  in  Salem,  Mass.,  and 
quite  early  in  life  he  was  a  member  of  the 
Salem  Band,  and  afterward  its  leader.  His 
next  step  forward  made  him,  in  1852,  a  member 
of  the  somewhat  famous  "  Ordway  Minstrels," 
in  Boston,  then  playing  in  the  little  hall  of  the 
historical  "  Province  House,"  where,  in  colo- 
nial times,  the  governors  and  nabobs  held 
high  court, — or  "high  jinks,"  as  we  may 
properly  call  it. 

If  we  here  allow  a  spirit  of  discursive  moral- 
izing to  take  possession  of  us,  we  shall  have  a 
fine  chance  to  make  mental  pictures  of  the  old 
colonial  days,  to  see  in  fancy  the  red-coated 
king's  officers,  the  bedizened  governor  and  his 
courtiers,  the  young  bucks  and  belles  of  the 
period,  the  guards  of  honor  in  and  about  the 
diminutive  but  cozy  little  place  of  royal  rev- 
elry, and  then  to  compare  it  all  with  an  enter- 


PATRICK  S.  GILMORE. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     187 

tainment  prepared  for  our  modern  republican 
pleasure-loving  people, — so  entirely  different, 
even  in  their  pleasures.  In  old  times,  "  pleas- 
ures "  meant  chiefly  eating,  drinking,  dancing, 
hunting,  and  love-making.  The  latter,  in  its 
primitive  essentials,  remains  the  same,  and 
doubtless  will  till  the  end  of  time,  but  in  other 
things  our  modern  system  of  pleasures  is  vastly 
different  from  that  of  the  colonial  days.  It  is 
true  we  eat  and  drink,  and  we  dance  a  little, 
but  we  have  evolved  a  large  class  of  people  to 
entertain  us  in  various  ways,  and  to  do  it  with- 
out any  effort  on  our  part.  One  species  of 
this  entertainment  is,  or  was,  negro  minstrelsy  ; 
perhaps  we  might  call  it  "  low  jinks."  We  see 
a  band  of  these  fun-providing  people  holding 
their  revelry  in  that  same  Province  House 
hall,  and  what  a  cruel  contrast  is  thus  made  by 
the  irony  of  fate  !  Where  English  nobles  once 
held  court,  we  now  see  the  Irish  boy,  Patrick 
Gilmore,  snapping  his  fingers  in  derision  at 
nobles  or  their  king, — and  yet  only  in  the  spirit 
of  professional  fun,  for  he  with  his  good  breth- 
ren are  thus  earning  their  daily  bread. 

From  out  the  frame  of  that  picture  we  may 
now  withdraw  the  aspiring  boy,  P.  S.  Gilmore, 
for  he  shortly  after  graduated  into  one  of  the 
military  bands  in  Boston.  Step  by  step  he 


1 88    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

climbed  the  ladder,  and  finally  we  had  "  Gil- 
more's  Band."  "  P.  S."  was  an  active,  restless 
"  hustler,"  and  his  band  was  soon  on  the  top 
of  the  wave.  When  the  war  broke  out,  Gil- 
more  showed  at  once  the  stuff  he  was  made 
of.  He  was  an  ardent  "  off-for-the-war  "  man. 
Meetings  to  help  along  enlistments  for  the 
army  and  navy  were  being  held  everywhere. 
Gilmore  and  his  full  band  constantly  played 
at  these  meetings,  and  I  dare  say  played  out 
of  pure  patriotism.  With  his  band  in  gay 
uniforms  and  ribbons  flying  from  their  hats,  as 
in  old  days,  he  even  paraded  the  streets  of 
Boston,  drumming  up  recruits  for  the  Massa- 
chusetts 24th  Regiment. 

The  next  step  was  that  he  and  his  whole 
band  volunteered  as  soldiers,  regularly  enlisted 
as  the  band  of  the  24th,  and  with  that  regiment 
went  to  the  war.  It  is  on  record  that  he  and 
his  men  were  always  on  hand  to  cheer  up  "  the 
boys  "  with  good  music  when  they  most  needed 
it,  and  he  even  got  some  of  the  bright  young 
spirits  of  that  crack  regiment  to  form  a  min- 
strel company.  In  fact,  he  showed  his  energy 
and  good  fellowship  in  every  situation. 

After  about  a  year's  service  in  North  Caro- 
lina, his  band,  like  most  of  the  regimental 
bands,  was  mustered  out.  General  Banks, 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     189 

commanding  the  Department  of  New  Or- 
leans, urged  Mr.  Gilmore  to  go  to  that  city 
and  become  the  chief  director  of  music  in  his 
command.  He  accepted,  and  was  a  very  pop- 
ular man  in  that  capacity.  He  organized  one 
very  large  school-children's  music  festival,  and 
it  doubtless  gave  him  a  good  preliminary  ex- 
perience in  managing  large  numbers  of  per- 
formers. 

When  the  "cruel  war  was  over"  Gilmore 
went  back  to  Boston,  and  once  more  had  "  to 
hustle  for  a  living."  He  reorganized  his 
band,  brought  it  up  to  its  best  estate,  and  for 
several  seasons  gave  Sunday  night  sacred  and 
popular  concerts  in  Music  Hall  or  Boston 
Theatre.  He  was  a  venturesome  manager, 
paying  high  for  drawing  cards,  and  usually 
had  a  big  orchestra  and  chorus  in  addition  to 
his  band.  He  did  all  the  drilling  and  direct- 
ing of  the  musical  forces  himself,  attended  to 
the  financial  details,  and  managed  to  get  valu- 
able assistance  from  the  newspapers ;  in  fact, 
he  manifested  an  energy  which  was  astound- 
ing. His  large  "  pull "  on  the  military  element 
in  Boston  was  a  great  help  to  him.  In  the 
midst  of  this  activity  in  public  entertainments, 
he  formed  a  partnership  (Gilmore  &  Wright) 
for  the  manufacture  of  band  instruments. 


190    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

I  mention  all  these  points  to  show  that  Mr. 
Gilmore  was  a  very  bright,  energetic  man. 
And  whether  he  lost  or  made  money,  his 
cheery  temper  always  remained  unruffled  and 
unclouded.  His  popularity  was  great ;  and  all 
his  earlier  ventures  and  activity  were  simply 
an  apprenticeship  for  really  large  doings  a 
little  later. 

I  cannot  say  positively  whether  the  embryo 
idea  of  a  Jubilee  emanated  from  him,  or 
whether  it  took  form  from  the  chance  sug- 
gestion of  some  one  else ;  but  I  believe  it  to 
have  been  a  Gilmore  idea  because  of  the 
peculiar  make-up  of  the  man.  He  was  an 
earnest,  loyal  American.  All  the  Southern 
States  had  come  back  into  the  fold,  and  we 
were  once  more  a  glorious  Union.  Peace  and 
plenty  reigned.  Gilmore  was  just  the  sort  of 
man  into  whose  head  would  come  buzzing 
the  idea  that  the  nation  should  have  a  big, 
rollicking  family  jubilee  to  celebrate  the 
happy  state  of  the  country.  Boston  was  the 
place  above  all  places  in  which  to  hold  it.  It 
should  be  a  musical  and  social  reunion, — a 
magnificent  jubilate.  Such  it  was  in  reality. 

Mr.  Gilmore  had  the  ability  to  inspire  a 
very  large  number  of  people  with  a  belief  in 
him  and  his  idea,  who  were  willing  to  become 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     191 

financial  guarantors.  Accordingly  a  wooden 
building  of  good  acoustic  properties  was 
promptly  erected  on  the  Back  Bay  lands,  near 
or  on  the  site  of  the  present  Art  Museum, — a 
building  capable  of  holding  fifty  thousand  per- 
sons, including  a  big  chorus  of  ten  thousand 
and  a  great  orchestra  of  one  thousand.  The 
audience  was  to  be  seated  in  chairs  on  a 
level,  oblong  floor  and  in  the  deep  balcony 
which  ran  round  the  sides  and  the  end  facing 
the  stage.  A  great  organ  was  built  for  the 
occasion  ;  also  a  bass  drum,  the  head  of  which 
might  have  been  ten  or  twenty  feet  in  diame- 
ter. This  drum  was  a  special  point  of  attrac- 
tion ;  it  seemed  as  big  as  a  Fourth  of  July 
balloon. 

The  musical  part  of  the  Jubilee — all  things 
considered, — was  noble  and  dignified.  The 
great  chorus,  the  great  orchestra,  the  great 
organ,  the  great  drum,  and  the  great  singer, 
Parepa-Rosa,  with  her  wonderful,  never-to-be- 
forgotten  rendering  of  the  Inflammatus,  may 
seem,  at  this  distance  of  time  and  develop- 
ment of  musical  taste,  as  something  only 
"great"  to  laugh  at.  Yet,  when  a  whole 
serious-minded  community  like  that  of  Boston 
"took  stock"  in  it,  and  the  spirit  of  the  idea 
was  carried  out  happily,  is  it  not  perhaps 


i92    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

rash  to  mock  at  it  ?  Have  not  the  results 
been  far-reaching,  doing  their  work  in  this 
world  of  evolution  just  as  the  chromo  pre- 
pares the  way  for  high  art  ?  Who  can  say 
that  a  large  share  of  Boston's  musical  reputa- 
tion was  not  earned  by  the  Jubilees? 

Returning  to  details,  it  will  surprise  many 
to  know  that  the  orchestra  numbered  quite  a 
thousand — with  the  patriotic  Ole  Bull  at  the 
head  of  the  violins,  and  Carl  Rosa  playing  at 
the  same  desk.  Gilmore  had  engaged  all  the 
principal  sopranos  of  Boston,  constituting  a 
"bouquet  of  artistic  singers."  These  were 
placed  on  a  special  raised  balcony  between 
the  orchestra  and  the  chorus,  and  they  sang 
in  unison  the  obligate  parts  as  they  occurred 
in  the  choral  pieces. 

Great  care  had  been  exercised  all  through 
the  preceding  winter  in  preparing  the  choris- 
ters, who  were  scattered  all  over  New  Eng- 
land,— every  village  and  town  contributing  a 
quota.  They  were  supplied  with  the  Jubilee 
music,  and  the  leaders  and  directors  of  all  these 
people  had  the  tempi  (Italian  plural  for 
"  time"  )  given  them.  During  many  months  it 
was  a  busy  time  for  Carl  Zerrahn,  as  general 
music  director,  and  his  aids.  They  had  to 
travel  from  town  to  town  to  drill  the  choristers, 


PAREPA-ROSA. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     193 

or  to  see  that  the  preparations  were  going  on 
auspiciously. 

When  all  the  singers  finally  came  together 
the  result  was  pretty  good.  But  a  chorus  of 
ten  thousand  persons  would  naturally  occupy  a 
wide  space,  and  they  would  inevitably  drag  the 
tempo.  Mr.  Zerrahn  often  had  to  show  good 
generalship  by  rushing  up  the  aisle  which 
separated  the  two  divisions  of  the  big  choral 
army  in  order  to  get  near  enough  to  beat  the 
laggards  into  time. 

Mr.  Gilmore  was  a  modest  and  a  wise  man, 
and  conducted  but  little  of  the  music  himself ; 
but  that  little  was  great, — for  did  he  not  direct 
the  "Anvil  Chorus  "  ?  Will  Boston,  07  at  least  its 
Jubilee  participators,  ever  forget  the  sensation 
it  had  when  the  one  hundred  firemen — each 
in  his  belt,  helmet,  and  red  flannel  shirt,  carry- 
ing a  long-handled  blacksmith's  hammer  at 
"  right  shoulder  shift "  like  a  musket — marched 
into  the  hall  and  on  to  the  stage  in  two  files  of 
fifty,  and  then  separated  far  enough  to  form  a 
red  frame  for  two  si-des  of  the  orchestra,  which 
meanwhile  was  playing  the  introduction  to  the 
"Anvil  Chorus  "  ?  Reaching  their  special,  real 
anvils,  the  firemen  faced  the  audience,  lifted 
their  hammers  to  the  proper  position,  and  at 
the  right  musical  moment  of  time  began  to 


194    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

pound  the  anvils, — right,  left,  right,  left, — 
while  the  great  orchestra  and  chorus  played 
and  sang  the  melody. 

If  ever  "  the  welkin  rang  "  it  did  then  ! 

In  addition  to  the  sounds  from  a  hundred 
anvils  there  was  the  great  organ,  military  band, 
drum  corps,  all  the  bells  in  the  city  achime,  and 
a  cannon  accompaniment.  This  last  came  from 
two  batteries  of  well  served  guns  stationed  at  a 
short  distance  from  the  building,  and  a  gun 
was  fired  off  by  electricity  on  the  first  beat  of 
each  measure.  A  small  table  was  placed  on 
the  stage,  close  to  the  director,  with  a  set  of 
electric  buttons,  each  having  a  wire  leading 
to  a  gun.  Mr.  John  Mullaly  was  the  artist 
who  pressed  the  button  ;  the  gun  did  the  rest. 
These  guns  were  similarly  used  for  all  national 
airs. 

At  the  termination  of  the  "  Anvil  Chorus  " 
there  was  enormous  applause.  The  whole 
mass  of  people  rose  to  their  feet,  jumped  up 
and  down,  and  nearly  dislocated  their  arms  by 
waving  handkerchiefs,  fans,  hats,  parasols,  even 
babies.  I  am  sure  that  I  was  never  in  any 
great  assembly  where  such  wild,  almost  frantic 
cheering  and  applause  was  heard.  Fifty 
thousand  people  in  a  wooden  building  can 
make  some  noise. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     195 

The  dear,  wonderful  old  maestro,  Verdi,  did 
certainly  furnish  a  great  opportunity  for  P.  S. 
Gilmore.  It  is  equally  certain  that  Verdi  never 
dreamed  of  the  possibilities  contained  in  the 
"  slam-bang  "  popular  melody.  When  the  piece 
was  ended,  the  gentlemen  firemen  would  march 
out ;  and,  the  applause  continuing,  they  would 
march  back  again  and  go  through  the  whole 
exciting  performance  once  more. 

During  the  festival,  some  of  the  composers 
like  J.  K.  Paine  and  Dudley  Buck  directed 
their  own  compositions.  Mr.  Eben  Tourjee 
directed  Nearer ;  my  God,  to  Thee,  and  other 
hymn  tunes. 

This  first  festival  was  held  in  June,  1869, 
and  lasted  a  week.  Performances  were  given 
afternoons  only, — nothing  in  the  evenings,  ex- 
cept a  large,  very  successful  ball  given  on 
Friday  evening.  People  poured  in  from  all 
parts  of  the  country  ;  distance  was  no  hindrance, 
—they  came  from  the  far  West  and  even  from 
California. 

On  June  i7th,  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  General  Ulysses  S.  Grant,  with  Ad- 
miral Farragut,  Admiral  Thatcher,  Commodore 
Winslow,  a  numerous  staff,  and  the  Governor 
of  the  State,  all  in  full  uniform,  were  present  at 
the  performance. 


196    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

The  financial  part  of  the  Jubilee  was  satis- 
factory. There  was  a  very  large  income, 
$290,000,  and  a  correspondingly  large  outlay, 
$283,000.  All  professional  people,  except  the 
few  who  declined  to  receive  pay,  were  paid. 
The  care  of  the  finance  had  been  taken  off 
Mr.  Gilmore's  shoulders.  After  every  bill  was 
paid,  a  respectable  balance  remained.  This 
balance,  together  with  the  proceeds  of  a  benefit 
concert,  $32,000,  making  together  $39,000, 
was,  very  properly  and  very  handsomely, 
handed  to  Mr.  Gilmore. 

For  musical  completeness  I  give  the  pro- 
gramme of  the  first  concert,  June  15,  1869, 
which  will  serve  as  a  type  of  all. 

1.  GRAND  CHORAL,  "  A  Strong  Castle  is  our  Lord," 

Luther. 

2.  TANNHAUSER  OVERTURE,  Select  Orchestra  of  600, 

Wagner. 
Directed  by  Mr.  JULIUS  EICHBERG. 

3.  GLORIA  from  the  Twelfth  Mass,       .         .  Mozart. 

4.  AVE  MARIA, Bach-Gounod. 

Sung  by  Madame  PAREPA-ROSA. 
The  violin  obligate  played  by  two  hundred  violinists. 

5.  NATIONAL  AIR,  "  The  Star  Spangled  Banner,"  Key. 

Sung  and  played  by  the  entire  force  with 
Bells  and  Cannon. 

Intermission  fifteen  minutes. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     197 

6.  AMERICAN  HYMN, Keller. 

7.  OVERTURE,  "  William  Tell."    .        .         .  Rossini. 

8.  INFLAMMATUS  from  the  "  Stabat  Mater,"    Rossini. 

Madame  PAREPA-ROSA. 

9.  CORONATION  MARCH,  from  "  Le  Prophete,"  1000 
performers,        .....      Meyerbeer. 

10.  ANVIL  CHORUS,  from  "  II  Trovatore,"       .      Verdi. 

All  the  forces  ;  too  anvils,  performed  on  by  100  mem- 
bers of  the  Boston  Fire  Department ;  Bells  and 
Cannons. 

11.  MY    COUNTRY,  'T  is   OF   THEE,  words  by   REV. 
S.  F.  SMITH,  D.D.     All  the  forces  ;  the  audience 
requested  to  join  in  singing  the  last  stanza. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

'T'HE  second  Jubilee  was  held  in  1872,  and, 
like  all  repetitions  of  a  similar  nature,  it 
was  found  to  be  impossible  to  get  up  a  popular 
excitement  equal  to  that  which  attended  the 
first  one.  It  was  therefore  not  a  financial  suc- 
cess. The  new  building  designed  for  it,  and 
everything  else,  was  on  a  larger  scale,  and  not 
so  easily  handled.  There  were  some  notably 
fine  features,  but  the  whole  was  less  of  a  strictly 
home  affair. 

Gilmore's  plans  again  showed  his  genius. 
They  were  bold,  well  conceived,  but  very  costly. 
He  went  to  Europe,  and  "talked  the  crowned 
heads "  (that  was  the  popular  phrase)  "  into 
letting  their  crack  "  military  bands  come  over  to 
play  in  the  Jubilee.  He  obtained  the  band  of  the 
Grenadier  Guards  from  London,  about  forty- 
five  strong,  under  Dan  Godfrey ;  a  German  in- 
fantry band,  about  thirty-five  men,  under  Saro  ; 
and  that  of  the  Garde  Republicaine,  from  Paris, 
of  about  fifty-five  men.  It  was  said  that  this  lat- 
ter was  reinforced  by  fine  artists  from  the  opera, 

198 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     199 

and  was  not  therefore  a  fair  sample  of  French 
bands.  There  was  also  a  little  insignificant 
band,  the  Royal  Constabulary,  from  Ireland. 

These  bands  had  an  English  day  and  Ger- 
man, French,  and  Irish  days.  The  English  band 
was  good,  the  German,  too  brassy,  the  French, 
magnificent.  The  latter  opened  with  Meyer- 
beer's "  Torch-Light  Dance "  (Fackeltanze) 
and  won  instant  success.  They  had  a  double 
quartette  of  saxophones,  four  fagotti,  a  double 
fagott,  and  some  very  large  tubas  :  and  the 
total  result  was  so  round,  full,  and  soft,  that 
all  musicians  were  captivated  with  the  deep 
diapason  volume  of  sound.  Their  perform- 
ance of  the  William  Tell  overture  was  superb. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that,  in  1872,  the 
political  antagonism  between  the  French  and 
Germans  was  great.  The  Franco-Prussian 
War  had  left  rankling  hatred  between  the  two 
peoples.  The  sight  of  a  German  to  a  French- 
man was  like  shaking  a  red  rag  in  the  face  of  a 
bull ;  consequently,  on  the  day  the  French 
band  of  La  Garde  Republicaine  marched  down 
the  broad  aisle  in  full  uniform,  surrounded  (in 
their  imagination)  by  their  enemies,  the  Ger- 
man musicians,  it  was  certainly  an  anxious 
moment  for  the  Frenchmen.  It  seemed  to 
me — perhaps  it  was  the  effect  of  the  sympa- 


200    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

thetic  current  created  by  the  situation — that 
they  were  pale  with  anxiety.  It  was  to  be 
their  battle-field ;  they  were  to  be  judged  by 
prejudiced  listeners,  and  they  were  on  their 
mettle. 

The  performance  of  the  band  was  musically 
so  perfect  that  all  prejudice  was  annihilated. 
Metaphorically  the  Germans  embraced  the 
Frenchmen ;  we  were  all  of  one  brotherhood 
— politics  and  race  differences  had  vanished — 
the  music  had  disarmed  all  evil  spirits.  We 
were  simply  musicians,  ready  to  award  praise 
to  merit.  When  the  band  ended  the  overture, 
the  players  all  about  them  were  as  wild  in 
their  applause  as  the  general  public.  And  I 
am  sure  I  saw  some  of  the  Frenchmen  wipe 
away  tears  of  joy  at  their  well-won  victory. 

Mr.  Gilmore  had  captured  several  rare  lions 
and  lionesses  for  his  musical  menagerie,  chief 
among  whom  was  the  royal  lion,  Johann 
Strauss, — the  famous  waltz-composer  from 
Vienna, — and  Madame  Peschka-Leutner,  a  col- 
orature  singer  of  extraordinary  ability.  This 
lady  captivated  her  audiences  with  her  clear, 
telling,  high,  and  powerful  soprano  voice,  her 
almost  matchless  execution,  style,  and  other 
rare  vocal  gifts.  She  was  a  genuine  success. 

Then   there    was    Madame    Rudersdorf,  a 


JOHANN  STRAUSS. 


Page  201 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    201 

splendid  singer,  of  broad,  classic,  oratorio  style. 
She  was  of  great  value  to  the  city  of  Boston, 
for  she  settled  there  and  became  a  teacher  of 
teachers. 

Strauss,  violin  in  hand,  conducted  the 
orchestra  daily,  in  one  of  his  most  popular 
waltzes,  and  also  in  some  little  knick-knacks, 
such  as  the  Pizzicato  Polka,  which  became  at 
once  a  great  favorite.  His  manner  of  con- 
ducting was  very  animating.  He  led  off  with 
the  violin  bow  to  give  the  tempo,  but  when  the 
right  swing  was  obtained  and  the  melody  was 
singing  out  from  the  orchestra,  he  joined  in 
with  his  fiddle  as  if  he  must  take  part  in  the 
intoxication  of  the  waltz.  While  playing  or 
conducting  he  commonly  kept  his  body  in 
motion,  rising  and  falling  on  his  toes  in  a  really 
graceful  manner. 

It  was  natural  that  Strauss,  the  composer  of 
the  Blue  Danube,  should  be  an  object  of  great 
interest  to  a  large  part  of  mankind  and  woman- 
kind. The  man  who  had  furnished  the  human 
family  so  many  blissful  moments,  was  bound 
to  be  an  idol  ;  and  he  had  worship  enough 
during  the  limited  time  allotted  him  to  face  his 
new-made  Boston  admirers.  We  must  not 
forget  that  on  all  public  parades  he  had  his 
valet  with  him, — in  gorgeous  livery,  a  cockade 


202    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

on  his  hat,  a  brown  and  golden  belt  round  his 
waist,  a  heavy  cloth  coat  on,  and  over  his  arm 
(with  the  mercury  at  90)  a  heavy  cloak  to  place 
round  his  master,  the  king  of  waltz-makers,  in 
case  of  need.  This  warmly  dressed,  though 
picturesque  valet,  always  stood  just  at  the 
front  edge  of  the  stage  with  his  eyes  fastened 
on  his  master.  Some  cynic  has  said,  "  No 
man  is  a  hero  to  his  valet."  I  take  no  more 
stock  in  that  saying,  for  I  think  Strauss  was  a 
hero  to  his.  We  must  judge  somewhat  by 
appearances  in  this  world,  as  they  often 
furnish  our  only  ground  for  judgment. 

This  second  Jubilee  had  a  "  coda,"  or  tail,  in 
the  shape  of  a  financial  deficit,  but  the  noble 
army  of  martyr  guarantors  "  faced  the  music" 
like  men. 

Mr.  Gilmore  reached  the  apogee  of  his 
greatness  at  the  period  of  these  festivals. 
To  conceive  and  carry  out  such  plans  showed 
much  forethought  and  executive  ability.  First, 
to  get  those  large  military  bands  over  from 
Europe — foreseeing  that  it  would  set  the 
European  world  to  talking  of  Gilmore  and  his 
band — was  a  pretty  big  thing ;  and  then  to 
follow  it  up  (after  he  moved  to  New  York 
City)  by  actually  taking  his  New  York  band 
over  to  Great  Britain,  France,  Germany,  and 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     203 

(I  think)  Italy,  was  certainly  not  only  bearding 
the  lion  in  his  den,  or  carrying  coals  to  New- 
castle, but  it  was  undertaking  a  financial 
venture  of  the  most  uncertain  kind — and  yet 
Mr.  Gilmore,  with  clear  vision  of  success  in  his 
eyes,  boldly  carried  out  the  project,  and  re- 
turned from  Europe  with  all  his  colors  flying. 

I  think  it  can  be  seen  that  the  brave,  loyal 
bandmaster,  Patrick  Sarsfield  Gilmore,  filled 
a  good  page  in  the  musical  and  social  history  of 
our  country.  We  hopefully  believe  he  now 
rests  in  peace. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

OUBINSTEIN  and  Wieniawski  were,  in 
A  \  my  humble  opinion,  the  two  greatest 
artists  who  have  up  to  date  visited  the  United 
States.  They  came  together,  under  some  for- 
gotten manager,  and  travelled  a  part  of  two 
seasons  in  1873-74.  Before  and  since  the 
coming  of  Wieniawski  we  have  had  many  fine 
violinists,  beginning  with  Sivori,  and  followed 
by  Ole  Bull,  Miska  Hauser,  Vieuxtemps, 
Sauret,  Madame  Camille  Urso,  Dangremont, 
Paul  Jullien,  —  then  Wieniawski,  Wilhelmj, 
and  quite  recently  Sarasate.  Speaking  from 
an  entirely  unbiassed  standpoint,  I  say  that 
Wieniawski  overtopped  them  all.  I  think 
there  was  not  one  in  the  above  list  who  could 
do  certain  things  he  did.  In  his  Carnaval  de 
Venise,  he  exhibited  a  mastery  over  every  form 
of  violin  technics  which  quite  reached  the 
marvellous.  His  chromatic  scale,  played 
staccato  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  note, 
and  down  again  to  the  lowest,  in  one  bow, — 
either  an  up  or  down  bow, — was  a  feat,  a  tour 

204 


HENRI  WIENIAWSKI. 


Page  204 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     205 

de  force \  shown  us  by  no  other  virtuoso.  His 
double  trills  and  double  harmonics  were  perfect. 
Nor  was  it  in  mere  technical  playing  that  he  was 
great,  for  he  played  with  much  sentiment  and 
feeling,  and  in  quartette  playing  he  showed  his 
best  quality.  He  was  the  master-player  and 
king  of  all  I  have  heard ;  Joachim  alone  ex- 
cepted  when  playing  Beethoven  or  Bach. 

I  have  reserved  my  little  talk  about  Rubin- 
stein, not  because  he  was  the  lesser  of  the  two 
remarkable  men, — for  we  all  know  he  was  the 
greater, — but  Rubinstein,  the  pianist  and  com- 
poser, is  not  a  subject  to  be  disposed  of  in  a 
few  qualifying  remarks.  Doubtless  there  are 
partisans  of  various  pianists,  prepared  to  dis- 
pute my  estimate  of  him  and  give  battle  at 
once.  But  let  us  not  forget  that  a  large  pro- 
portion of  persons  is  always  satisfied  that  the 
latest  good  thing  is  the  best  in  history.  Also, 
it  is  fair  to  say  there  is  quite  as  large  a  propor- 
tion, perhaps  a  larger  one,  which  says  that 
the  old  way  or  person  is  the  best. 

Luckily  for  the  pianistic  and  musical  world 
in  general,  the  fact  of  Rubinstein's  great  playing 
is  still  attested  by  large  numbers,  and,  we  may 
add,  by  exclusively  musical  people.  A  consider- 
able share  of  the  partisanship  of  the  present 
day  is  recruited  from  the  ranks  of  society  peo- 


2o6    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

pie,  who  take  up  people  and  fads  and  carry 
them  till  the  next  new,  good  thing  comes  ;  but 
the  whole  critical  musical  world  has  sung  the 
praises  of  Rubinstein,  from  his  advent  as  a 
player  till  the  day  of  his  death,  with  scarcely  a 
dissenting  voice.  It  is  therefore  fair  to  believe 
that  it  was  not  without  reason  that  Europe 
had  weighed  him  in  the  pianistic  scales  and 
agreed  that  he  was  the  great  master. 

Let  us  add  to  that  fact  that  he  can  be  num- 
bered among  the  creator-gods  of  music.  Do 
not  such  beings  possess  an  insight  into  the 
spirit  and  wishes  even  of  other  composers,  not 
shared  by  those  who  have  not  the  special  gift 
of  composition  ?  Are  not  men  like  Rubinstein 
made  to  glow  with  a  composer's  rapture  ?  We 
all  remember  how  he  used  to  thunder  on  the 
piano  at  times,  and  hit  many  wrong  notes,  and 
we  knew  the  cause.  His  passion  was  roused 
— the  brain  working —  the  heart  throbbing — his 
mental  vision  following  the  guiding  spirit  and 
the  soul  of  the  music.  He  was  being  carried 
on  its  wings  into  ethereal  regions.  At  such 
moments,  when  cool  mastery  of  technics  was 
absent,  his  fingers  would  play  him  tricks. 
Even  then  it  was  a  delight  to  be  a  listener,  a 
joy  to  be  a  musician  and  be  brought  under  the 
spell  of  his  magic  power. 


ANTON  RUBINSTEIN. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    207 

On  one  memorable  occasion  Rubinstein  and 
Wieniawski  did  me  the  honor  to  spend  an 
evening  at  my  house  in  Boston.  A  right  royal 
musical  evening  it  was,  shared  by  about  fifty 
artist  and  amateur  guests.  We  made  much 
music, — beginning  with  Rubinstein's  String 
Quintette  in  F,  op.  57.  Then  we  had  the 
Rasoumoffski  Quartette  in  F,  op.  57,  by  Bee- 
thoven, with  Wieniawski  playing  first  violin. 
Then  the  Schumann  Piano  Quintette,  with 
Rubinstein  at  the  piano.  Oh,  it  was  a  joy  to 
take  part  with  such  a  man  and  in  such  a  work  ! 
and  how  Rubinstein  did  spur  us  on  by  his 
passionate  way  of  playing  some  of  the  great 
parts  !  his  power  was  fierce  and  tremendous. 
I  think  we  all  revelled  in  the  sea  of  sound  we 
made  about  us. 

After  the  Quintette,  Rubinstein  played  a 
lot  of  choice  solo  pieces,  ending  the  evening 
with  the  Chopin  Polonaise  in  A  flat,  op.  53, 
in  which  comes  the  wonderful  passage  for  the 
left  hand  in  octaves.  He  began  the  phrase 
very  soft,  then  the  "little-by-little  crescendo" 
was  most  admirably  done,  finally  reaching  a 
fortissimo  power  which  was  quite  colossal. 
It  stirred  us  all  up,  and  set  even  the  chan- 
delier to  jingling  in  sympathy,  and  possibly  in 
admiration. 


208    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  give  a  little  incident 
showing  Rubinstein's  frank,  lovable  person- 
ality. On  the  evening  of  the  above  musicale, 
we  had  planned  to  make  an  intermission  after 
the  second  composition,  to  rest  the  artists  and 
allow  an  opportunity  for  people  to  meet 
Rubinstein.  No  sooner  had  we  ended  the 
Quartette  than  Rubinstein  came  to  me  and 
asked  if  he  could  not  go  down-stairs  and  smoke 
a  cigarette.  I  sa^d,  "  Yes,  certainly  "  ;  and  we 
went  down  to  the  dining-room,  where  we  dis- 
covered that  the  table  was  spread  for  the  sup- 
per. Rubinstein  at  once  said,  "  I  must  not 
smoke  here ;  can't  we  go  into  the  kitchen  ? " 
"  Of  course,"  said  I  ;  so  we  plunged  into  the 
kitchen.  This  important  part  of  the  premises 
we  found  in  possession  of  three  colored  men 
of  the  well-known  J.  B.  Smith,  caterer,  and 
the  atmosphere  was  frightfully  hot.  The  next 
question  from  Rubinstein  was,  could  n't  he 
take  off  his  coat,  it  was  so  warm  ?  Off  came 
the  coat,  followed  by  the  remark  that  it 
was  just  delightful  to  enjoy  the  freedom  of 
a  home,  and  how  often  had  he  gone  into 
his  own  kitchen  to  have  a  smoke !  While 
he  was  in  the  midst  of  the  sacred  indulgence, 
Mrs.  Ryan  came  to  the  door  searching  for 
Rubinstein,  in  order  to  introduce  him  to  some 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    209 

of  the  friends.  The  instant  she  appeared  he 
got  into  his  coat  with  the  celerity  of  a  theatri- 
cal expert,  took  one  more  puff  at  the  cigarette, 
and  was  ready  for  duty. 

I  often  recall  the  trifling  episode, — Rubin- 
stein and  I  seated  near  the  door  farthest  from 
the  cooking-range,  he  in  shirt-sleeves  with  his 
coat  spread  on  his  knees,  and  the  three  colored 
men  busy  at  the  range  but  often  turning 
round  to  stare  at  the  stranger  with  his  odd 
ways,  language,  and  gestures. 

Rubinstein's  character  was  simple  and  unaf- 
fected, interesting  and  individual,  throughout. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

FROM  the  time  of  closing  up  the  National 
College  of  Music  in  1873,  the  Mendels- 
sohn Quintette  Club  travelled  season  after 
season,  giving  concerts  in  all  parts  of  the 
country. 

When  we  began  going  West  in  1862  or  1863, 
towns  like  Indianapolis,  St.  Paul,  Grand  Rap- 
ids, and  Cleveland,  were  small ;  and  we  have 
seen  them  grow  into  large,  populous  cities,  and 
noticed  the  changes  in  the  manners  and  cus- 
toms of  the  people.  There  is  very  little  dif- 
ference now  in  the  people  of  any  section  ;  they 
are  so  homogeneous  that  we  cannot  tell  whether 
we  are  playing  in  Bangor  or  Omaha  or  on  the 
Pacific  Coast.  We  have  frequently  visited  Can- 
ada, from  Newfoundland  to  British  Columbia. 

In  the  early  spring  of  1881,  we  made  our 
first  visit  to  California,  and  how  new  and  ro- 
mantic it  did  seem  !  We  were  not  so  blast  as 
we  became  afterwards. 

I  knew  that  in  San  Francisco  I  was  to  meet 
many  old  friends,  and  I  realized  most  of  my 

210 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    211 

pleasant  anticipations.  We  left  Omaha  be- 
hind us  in  snowdrifts,  just  as  we  had  left  all 
nature  in  the  Eastern  and  Middle  States  in 
the  desolation  of  winter  storms.  These  same 
storms  followed  us  till  we  reached  Reno,  in 
Nevada.  Waking  up  the  next  morning  in 
Sacramento,  California — what  a  change  !  The 
jump  from  winter  to  summer  had  been  made 
in  one  day-and-night's  journey.  All  nature 
had  put  on  the  lovely  dress  of  June.  The 
odor  of  flowers,  the  distinctive  feature  of  Cali- 
fornia, was  in  the  atmosphere  we  breathed,  and 
the  delight  from  it  was  throbbing  within  us, 
when,  as  if  to  emphasize  our  joy,  one  of  the 
expected  friends  came  to  the  train  to  meet 
myself  and  my  family,  bringing  a  great  mass 
of  roses  freshly  gathered  from  his  garden. 
How  wonderful  and  delightful  it  did  seem  ! 

We  all  get  accustomed  to  this  kind  of  thing 
in  time,  and  it  no  longer  stirs  our  enthusiasm. 
But  the  first  experience  stays  by  one  as  a 
charming  souvenir. 

Our  concert  experience  in  California  was 
pleasant  and  profitable.  We  visited  nearly 
every  place  up  and  down  the  coast,  including 
Oregon  and  Washington  Territory.  In  San 
Francisco  we  gave  an  extended  set  of  con- 
certs, and  when  leaving  for  Australia  we  had 


212    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

a  farewell  which  made  us  all  happy.  The 
Quintette  Club  at  that  time  was  composed 
of  the  following  artists :  First  violin,  Isidor 
Schnitzler ;  second  violin,  August  Thiele ; 
flute  and  viola,  William  Schade ;  clarinet  and 
viola,  Thomas  Ryan  ;  violoncello,  Fritz  Giese  ; 
Miss  Miller,  soprano. 

While  we  were  in  "  Frisco,"  we  had  been 
advised  that  a  concert  trip  to  Australia  would 
be  a  profitable  one,  and  we  determined  to  un- 
dertake it.  It  was  a  bold  venture.  The  cost 
of  fares  one  way  for  agent  and  company  was 
fourteen  hundred  dollars.  There  was  a  chance 
that  we  might  have  to  "  come  home  on  our 
trunks  "  (in  theatrical  parlance) ;  yet  we  were 
quite  sure  we  could  not  "  foot  it."  It  is  a 
pity  that  slang  alone  can  paint  the  possible 
situation. 

Steamers  for  Australia  sailed  only  once  a 
month.  Our  agent  went  a  month  in  advance 
of  us,  taking  a  good  stock  of  printed  matter 
to  prepare  the  way.  The  voyage  from 
"  Frisco  "  to  Sydney  takes  twenty-eight  days. 
We  were  advertised  to  start  on  a  Saturday, 
and  our  Club  was  to  give  a  concert  in  Hono- 
lulu the  following  Saturday ;  but  the  English 
mails  were  late  in  reaching  "  Frisco,"  and  we 
could  not  sail  till  Sunday.  That  fact  unfortu- 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    213 

nately  prevented  our  reaching  Honolulu  till 
the  Sunday  following,  and  we  gave  no  concert 
till  we  made  the  return  trip,  ten  months  later. 

We  had  a  pleasant  and  uneventful  voyage 
on  the  steamer  Zelandia.  It  is  just  one  week's 
sail  to  Honolulu.  The  ship  requires  about  ten 
hours  to  unload  and  load.  The  next  port  made 
is  Auckland,  in  New  Zealand,  fourteen  days' 
sail,  where  a  stop  of  from  six  to  eight  hours 
is  made.  The  next  port  is  Sydney,  in  New 
South  Wales,  seven  days'  sail,  and  the  end  of 
the  trip. 

After  a  few  days'  rest  and  a  chance  to  get 
our  fingers  into  working  order,  we  gave  a 
soiree,  by  invitation,  in  Pahling's  piano  ware- 
rooms,  to  newspaper  and  music  people.  The 
papers  declared  that  nothing  so  thoroughly 
artistic  as  our  Club  had  hitherto  visited  their 
colony.  It  was  a  good  send-off. 

Throughout  the  colonies  our  system  of  giv- 
ing concerts  was  very  different  from  that  in 
vogue  in  the  United  States.  We  generally 
hired  a  hall  or  opera  house  for  two  weeks,  and 
played  nightly,  giving  more  classic  music  than 
we  would  then  have  dared  to  play  at  home. 
Generally  there  were  four  different  prices  for 
admission,  ranging  from  one  to  four  or  five 
shillings.  Very  many  people  bought  their 


214    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

tickets  at  the  doors  with  bank  checks.  I  have 
often  had  as  many  as  fifty  of  these  little  checks 
on  different  banks,  the  amounts  ranging  from 
two  shillings  to  a  pound.  It  was  a  nice  little 
job  each  morning  to  get  them  cashed. 

About  four  days  before  we  sailed  from  San 
Francisco,  the  shooting  of  President  Garfield 
had  occurred.  At  Honolulu  we  could  hear  no 
report  of  the  good  man's  condition.  Fourteen 
days  later,  on  arriving  at  Auckland,  the  Amer- 
ican consul  came  to  the  ship  to  give  us  the 
joyful  news  that  Garfield  was  out  of  danger, 
and  would  probably  "pull  through."  That 
was  a  cheering  send-off  for  the  next  trip  of 
seven  days.  But  alas !  on  the  morning  fol- 
lowing our  arrival  at  Sydney  came  the  very 
sad  news  of  his  death.  Genuine  sorrow  was 
felt  by  the  citizens  of  Sydney ;  the  stores  were 
closed,  all  business  was  stopped,  and  a  public 
meeting  was  called  in  the  City  Hall.  All 
Americans  were  present  and  many  speeches  of 
condolence  were  made  by  sympathizers.  We 
were  made  to  realize  that  in  the  branches  of  the 
English-speaking  race  a  strong  relationship 
exists  ;  hit  one  member  of  the  family  hard,  and 
you  hit  all. 

When  I  sailed  away  from  America's  shores 
my  good  wife  insisted  that  I  should  contribute 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     215 

a  letter  once  a  month  for  the  Boston  Transcript. 
I  wrote  five  such  letters,  from  which  I  quote 
freely  in  the  following  account  of  our  Austra- 
lian experiences. 

After  our  arrival  in  Sydney  and  the  soiree 
by  invitation,  we  gave  concerts  in  the  City 
Hall  for  two  weeks.  We  also  made  a  trip  into 
Queensland,  stopping  first  at  Brisbane,  the  cap- 
ital of  the  colony,  five  hundred  miles  north  of 
Sydney,  on  the  coast.  Most  of  our  travelling 
was  by  water,  as  we  only  visited  the  cities,  and 
they  lay  on  the  fringe  of  the  continent.  We  be- 
came pretty  good  sailors,  and  thought  no  more 
of  a  voyage  of  from  two  to  seven  days  than 
we  would  of  a  trip  from  Boston  to  Springfield 
or  Portland  by  rail.  On  the  voyage  to  Bris- 
bane we  sailed  most  of  the  time  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  shore,  and  could  see  that  the 
country  was  almost  a  wilderness,  covered  with 
eucalyptus  trees,  of  the  prevailing  olive-green 
color.  Two  days'  sail  brought  us  to  Brisbane,  a 
city  with  a  population  of  thirty  thousand.  We 
underwent  the  doctor's  inspection,  and  then 
put  up  at  a  comfortable  hotel.  We  gave 
about  seven  concerts,  then  took  steamer  for 
Maryborough,  twenty-four  hours  distant. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  next  day  some 
aborigines  came  on  board  from  an  island  ;  real 


216    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

natives, — six  men  and  three  women — a  mean 
lot.  The  women  were  in  full,  extra  gala  trav- 
elling costume  (and  I  was  given  to  understand 
were  in  deep  mourning).  Their  heads  were 
decorated  with  a  mass  of  small  copper-colored 
feathers,  gummed  to  their  hair,  over  which  was 
a  rag  of  a  handkerchief  which,  keeping  all  in 
place,  was  tied  under  the  chin.  One  young 
woman  was  extra  gay.  Her  dress  consisted  of 
an  old  Balmoral  skirt,  held  with  a  string  going 
up  over  the  left  shoulder,  crossing  the  back, 
and  meeting  the  skirt  again  under  the  right 
arm.  This  picturesque  arrangement  left  both 
arms,  and,  in  fact,  the  whole  body,  quite  unfet- 
tered. I  was  told  (it  may  have  been  a  libel, 
though)  that  on  their  reservations,  mainly 
islands,  their  costume  consists  of  the  feathers 
only.  The  other  two  women  were  dressed  a 
little  more  in  the  fashion  of  the  day.  They 
had  cotton  gowns  on,  docked  rather  short  it  is 
true,  and  ragged  and  torn,  but  that  simply  took 
away  a  certain  otherwise  inevitable  stiffness. 
The  gowns  were  fresh  from  the  ash-pit,  that 
was  certain  ;  no  poor  laundress  had  to  suffer 
from  their  exacting  ideas  of  nicety.  They  all 
wore  the  hosiery  Nature  gave  them,  their  shoes 
were  untanned  except  by  the  sun,  and — oh, 
poor  creatures  ! — such  thin  shanks  ! 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     2 1 7 

Bread  and  meat  were  given  them.  Charm- 
ing was  it  to  see  their  mutual  friendliness.  A 
large  bone,  with  plenty  of  meat,  was  in  the 
hands  of  one  of  the  party ;  he  or  she  would 
take  a  good  generous  mouthful  from  the  bone, 
then  pass  it  to  the  next,  and  so  on.  When 
they  had  polished  the  bones  and  were  satisfied, 
they  squatted  on  the  poop-deck  and  began 
playing  cards,  each  chipping  in  a  penny  for  the 
pool.  They  grew  very  excited  over  the  loss  of 
a  trick,  and  it  was  a  severe  struggle  every 
time,  both  with  cards  and  tongue,  to  get  the 
pool. 

The  gentlemen  of  this  party  had  to  work 
their  passage,  cleaning  brasses,  unloading 
cargo,  etc.  They  were  all  of  a  dark  negro 
color,  with  a  very  mean,  despicable  look,  such 
as  you  see  sometimes  in  a  cur  dog ;  they  drink 
to  excess.  Up-country  here,  they  always  have 
dogs  with  them.  Men  and  women,  always  in 
Indian  file,  follow  each  other, — never  two  to- 
gether,— always  scolding  and  quarrelling.  The 
women  often  carry  a  scanty  little  wardrobe, 
blanket,  etc.,  on  a  clothesline  which,  put  round 
the  neck,  hangs  down  their  backs — baby  thrown 
in.  They  are  all  beggars  in  towns,  and  are  not 
allowed  to  sleep  within  the  precincts  ;  they 
stretch  out  anywhere,  the  climate  being  merci- 


218     Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

ful.  Speaking  of  climate  in  Queensland,  it 
may  be  summed  up  as  fine.  We  are  now  only 
two  hundred  miles  from  the  Tropic  of  Capri- 
corn. The  sun  shines  hot,  but  the  atmosphere 
is  never  debilitating,  Miasma  and  malaria  are 
totally  unknown. 

In  Maryborough  we  gave  four  concerts,  do- 
ing a  fair  business.  By  rail  we  went  sixty  miles 
in  the  interior  to  Gympie,  a  mining-town  on  the 
hills.  As  they  never  have  frost,  the  bulk  of 
miners  live  in  little  huts  of  bark,  or  tents,  and 
can  sleep  out  of  doors  the  year  round.  In- 
deed, beds  for  extra  guests  in  hotels  are  made 
up  on  verandas  and  piazzas. 

Our  concert  room  here  is  the  Variety  Thea- 
tre, a  fair-sized  barn,  with  doors  on  hinges  up 
near  the  roof,  opening  for  light  and  air.  The 
sides  are  of  weather-boards  only,  the  roof 
shingled  withth  in  hardwood,  no  lining ;  stars 
shine  through  ;  and  as  people  commonly  carry 
umbrellas,  they  are  prepared  to  use  them  in 
case  of  a  sudden  shower.  The  night  of  the 
first  concert,  we  had  in  the  shilling  part — rear 
end  of  the  barn — about  two  hundred  people, 
mostly  miners.  These  gentlemen  were  pre- 
pared to  enjoy  the  concert  in  their  own  way, 
nearly  every  one  having  a  good  honest  clay 
pipe.  The  little  wax  matches  which  light  with 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    219 

a  snapping  noise  were  going  all  the  time, — 
you  could  plainly  see  the  spark  on  the  back- 
ground of  good  thick  smoke.  As  we  had  a 
large  front  part  of  house  at  four  and  three 
shillings,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  try  the  effect 
of  a  coaxing  appeal  to  the  gentlemen  in  the 
rear  to  abstain  from  smoking.  I  spoke  of  the 
heat,  close  air,  the  general  enjoyment  which  all 
would  realize  if  they  would  abstain  from  smok- 
ing while  the  performances  went  on.  It  had 
the  desired  effect :  they  put  up  their  pipes, 
were  very  quiet,  attentive,  and  enthusiastic ; 
but  when  approaching  the  end  of  part  first,  we 
could  hear  the  little  explosive  matches  on  all 
sides  going  like  fireworks,  and  at  the  last  note 
up  rose  nearly  every  man,  with  a  good  head 
of  pipe  on,  and  marched  out  the  side  door,  to 
take  the  air,  and  "see  a  friend." 

We  usually  allow  nearly  fifteen  minutes  be- 
tween parts ;  our  agent  rings  a  bell  out-of- 
doors  like  the  schoolmarm,  and  in  they  troop. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

AFTER  our  venture  in  Queensland  we  re- 
turned to  Sydney  and  prepared  for  our 
trip  to  Tasmania,  formerly  named  Van  Die- 
men's  Land, — an  island  about  two  hundred 
miles  long  and  shaped  like  a  crusader's  shield. 
It  was  three  days'  sail  from  New  South  Wales. 
We  reached  Hobart,  the  capital  of  the  colony, 
situated  at  its  southern  extremity,  on  December 
24th.  Steaming  into  the  bay  on  a  lovely  early 
summer  morning,  the  view  was  enchanting. 
On  the  left  of  the  bay,  rising  from  a  beauti- 
ful sandy  beach,  stands  Mount  Nelson,  twelve 
hundred  feet  high,  with  a  very  picturesque 
flag  station  on  the  summit.  At  the  right  of 
the  bay,  at  the  base  of  a  hill,  is  Battery  Point, 
a  rounded  eminence  of  greensward.  Between 
these  two  points  lies  snugly  ensconced  the 
town,  which  spreads  up  and  over  the  slopes  of 
numerous  small  hills  having  for  background  a 
high  hill,  densely  wooded,  then  a  deep  valley, 
and  then,  to  crown  the  picture,  directly  in  the 
centre,  Mount  Wellington,  4166  feet  high.  The 

220 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician     221 

whole  make-up  of  bay,  shipping,  handsome 
buildings,  and  embowered  dwellings,  with  an 
old-fashioned  red  brick  windmill  on  a  hill,  its 
skeleton  arms,  now  unused,  stretching  out, 
made  a  picture  more  attractive  than  any  my 
eyes  ever  rested  on — and  further  acquaintance 
with  the  town  but  increased  its  charm  for  me. 

There  are  the  usual  recreation-grounds  for 
the  people,  a  beautiful  demesne  on  the  edge 
of  the  bay  ;  a  good-sized  historical  museum, 
containing  valuable  coins,  birds,  beasts,  fishes, 
and  geological  specimens  found  in  the  colonies ; 
a  large  public  library,  and  handsome  town  hall, 
where  we  played, — which,  by  the  way,  has  three 
glass  chandeliers  worthy  to  be  placed  in  a  Pa- 
risian opera  house.  In  the  centre  of  a  pretty 
garden  square  stands  a  handsome  bronze  statue 
of  Sir  John  Franklin,  who  was  one  of  the 
former  governors.  There  is  also  a  fine  bo- 
tanic garden  of  rare  trees,  fruits,  and  flowers. 

The  day  following  our  arrival  being  Christ- 
mas Day,  we  duly  celebrated  it  by  making  up 
a  party  of  four  Americans,  including  Professor 
Denton  of  Boston  (the  lecturer  on  geology, 
who  had  just  concluded  a  series  of  lectures), 
to  "  do"  Mount  Wellington.  It  proved  to  be 
a  very  fatiguing  tramp  of  twenty-one  miles 
there  and  back,  but  richly  were  we  rewarded. 


222    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Part  of  the  way  up  a  very  steep  trail,  when 
nearing  the  summit,  we  had  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  of  the  roughest  kind  of  climbing,  over 
what  is  called  the  "  ploughed  fields,"  made  up 
of  huge,  basaltic,  columnar  rocks,  which  for- 
merly were  the  face  of  the  mountain,  and  in 
falling  were  shattered,  crushed,  wedged  in,  and 
then  rounded  in  time  by  the  elements.  This 
struggle  over,  we  were  fairly  on  the  table-land. 
Another  one  and  a  half  miles  brought  us  to 
the  looking-off  place,  the  view  from  which  was 
certainly  grand  beyond  description.  The  day 
was  warm  and  perfect,  the  atmosphere  clear. 
We  could  see  about  ninety  miles  distant,  over 
nearly  three  fourths  of  the  horizon.  It  was  a 
beautiful  intermingling  of  land  and  sea, — in- 
numerable bays  making  in  from  the  ocean, 
some  with  bluffy  margins,  others  with  lovely 
sweeps  of  half-moon  beaches  ;  all  wonderfully 
fascinating,  the  sea  being  of  a  very  light  blue 
and  the  breakers  on  the  bright  sand  beaches 
making  a  uniform  fringe  of  pure  white,  marry- 
ing exquisitely  with  the  background  of  thickly 
wooded  shores.  These  beautiful  effects  of 
color  and  shape  made  us  fairly  wild  with  de- 
light. Then  there  were  various  narrow  arms 
of  the  sea  making  into  the  land,  which,  sloping 
off  gently  on  both  sides  to  the  water,  gave 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    223 

promise  of  opportunity  in  the  coming  years 
for  homes  fit  for  a  race  of  artist-kings.  In- 
deed, we  all  agreed  that  if  Tasmania  were  part 
of  Northeastern  America,  it  would  speedily  be- 
come one  of  the  greatest  watering-places,  in  the 
finest  sense,  in  the  world.  From  our  objective 
point  we  could  look  down  on  the  streets  of 
Hobart,  the  harbor,  and  about  twenty  miles  up 
the  Derwent  River. 

We  gave  ten  concerts  in  Hobart  (population 
about  twenty  thousand),  all  well  attended,  with 
one  great  crowd  on  the  night  of  a  concert  given 
under  the  patronage  of  the  new  governor. 
All  the  fashion,  of  necessity,  were  out.  Leav- 
ing this  cozy  city,  we  took  train  for  Launces- 
ton,  the  only  other  city  in  the  colony,  stopping 
to  give  one  concert  each  at  Oatlands  and 
Campbelltown.  This  latter  place  is  the  town 
to  which  the  American  government  sent  a 
body  of  astronomers  to  observe  the  transit  of 
Venus  a  few  years  since.  These  two  little 
places,  each  of  about  one  thousand  population, 
gave  us  crowds.  They  came  in  from  long 
distances. 

Launceston,  with  a  population  of  about 
twelve  thousand,  has  not  the  natural  beauties  of 
Hobart,  but  is  nevertheless  a  handsome  town, 
built  upon  the  sides  of  a  hill,  and  is  the  centre 


224    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

of  a  fine  farming  country — farms  resembling 
those  seen  in  Vermont — with  plenty  of  fat  cattle 
and  thousands  of  sheep.  Two  rivers,  the  North 
and  South  Esk,  here  join  and  form  the  Tamar, 
— a  pretty  harbor  for  shipping.  The  South 
Esk  is  for  many  miles  a  swift  cataract,  running 
through  a  gorge  in  the  mountains  filled  with 
wild,  picturesque  beauty.  Where  it  debouches 
into  the  Tamar,  it  is  spanned  from  hill  to  hill 
by  a  light  iron  bridge  two  hundred  feet  long 
and  of  a  single  arch,  forming  a  very  graceful 
object  in  the  landscape. 

In  Launceston  we  gave  five  evening  con- 
certs of  mixed  music  and  one  matinee  of  clas- 
sic, to  large  and  enthusiastic  audiences.  In 
both  cities  they  have  musical  associations 
which  give  oratorios  ;  though  I  noticed  that 
in  one  of  the  cities  there  is  a  professor  who 
advertises  to  "  teach  singing  and  music."  One 
delightful  souvenir  of  Launceston  I  shall  not 
soon  forget, — the  charming  hospitality  of  a 
most  remarkable  woman,  between  sixty  and 
seventy  years  of  age,  authoress,  poetess,  and 
accomplished  artist,  married  early  in  life  in 
England,  her  husband  high  in  government  life. 
She  has  written  a  series  of  works  describ- 
ing Tasmania,  illustrated  by  her  pencil  in  quite 
a  wonderful  way  ;  and  her  abundant  means 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    225 

enabled  her  to  have  them  printed  in  London 
for  private  distribution.  While  still  a  girl,  liv- 
ing in  Birmingham,  England,  in  1833  Paganini, 
the  great,  visited  that  city.  A  few  verses  of 
poetic  rapture  on  hearing  him  play  brought 
him  to  her  feet.  He  expressed  his  homage 
by  presenting  her  a  silhouette  picture,  with  a 
suitable  dedication  in  his  own  handwriting,  on 
a  page  in  an  album,  on  the  opposite  page  of 
which  the  great  man  wrote  the  first  eight 
measures  of  the  Campanella  Rondo  for  violin. 
My  delight  and  surprise  at  seeing  such  a  sou- 
venir in  so  remote  a  quarter  of  the  globe  may 
be  easily  imagined  by  musicians. 

The  history  of  Tasmania  is  full  of  interest, 
made  so  chiefly  by  the  fact  that  all  the  de- 
ported criminals  formerly  in  Botany  Bay  were 
carried  to  that  island.  That  act,  joined  to  the 
"  wiping  out "  (so  to  characterize  it)  of  the 
native  population,  has  created  a  page  of  his- 
tory as  savage  as  it  is  romantic.  I  can  add  to 
that  history  a  few  facts  quite  in  keeping  with 
the  general  trend  of  Tasmania's  records. 

When  I  was  a  boy  of  perhaps  six  years  of 
age,  my  father's  regiment  was  stationed  in 
Plymouth,  England.  An  order  came  from 
the  government  that  two  soldiers  from  each 
infantry  regiment  could  volunteer  to  go  to 


226    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

Tasmania.  They  must  however  be  married 
men  and  each  have  at  least  two  children.  On 
arriving  at  the  colony,  they  would  receive 
their  free  discharge,  a  tract  of  land,  and  some 
money  to  help  them  to  start  in  the  new  life. 
The  government's  plan  was  to  have  in  that 
colony  a  force  of  men  suitable  to  do  police 
duty.  I  remembered  that  two  men  volunteered 
from  our  regiment. 

On  my  arrival  in  Hobart,  the  capital  of 
the  colony,  I  sought  information  about  these 
old  volunteers  ;  I  had  remembered  the  name 
of  one  of  them,  and  that  was  a  help  in  getting 
on  to  their  traces.  I  quickly  ascertained  that 
one  of  them  was  dead,  and  the  other  was  a 
poor  imbecile  in  a  distant  asylum.  Their  fam- 
ilies had  quite  disappeared  from  the  island. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ON  January  19,  1882,  we  returned  to 
Sydney  and  made  a  short  tour  in  the  in- 
terior of  the  colony.  While  on  this  trip  I  was 
fated  to  have  a  personal  experience  as  strange 
as  anything  to  be  found  in  a  novel. 

Just  before  I  was  married  in  1854,  a  brother 
of  my  future  wife  was  induced  by  some  young 
men  of  his  own  age  to  try  his  fortunes  in 
Australia.  The  reports  of  the  gold  "finds" 
in  that  country  were  more  attractive  even 
than  those  coming  from  California. 

The  party  sailed  from  New  York  in  one  of 
the  American  clipper  ships  for  the  city  of 
Melbourne,  and  presumably  arrived  in  safety ; 
but,  though  my  wife  wrote  many  letters  to  her 
brother,  in  the  care  of  the  American  consul, 
no  replies  ever  reached  us.  Year  after  year 
rolled  by,  with  its  growing  uneasiness  concern- 
ing the  fate  of  the  gold-seeker,  till,  finally, 
in  the  twenty-eighth  year  of  his  absence  an 
intimate  friend  going  to  Australia  promised 
faithfully  to  aid  us,  and  did  ascertain  that  the 

227 


228    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

brother  had  been  dead  for  several  years,  leav- 
ing a  widow  and  one  child,  and  that  he  had 
been  reputed  to  be  a  wealthy  man.  We  wrote 
to  the  widow,  but  no  reply  came  ;  Australia, 
like  the  United  States,  is  a  big  country. 
Part  of  my  object  in  visiting  those  distant 
colonies  was  to  find  that  widow,  but  up  to  the 
time  of  our  arrival  in  New  South  Wales,  I  had 
made  no  movement  in  that  direction,  for  I  was 
awaiting  our  visit  to  the  colony  of  Victoria, 
when  I  meant  to  visit  the  Ballarat  region. 

On  this  trip  we  arrived  towards  evening  in 
a  small  town  where  we  were  to  give  a  concert. 
I  was  met  by  our  agent  at  the  railroad  station, 
who  told  me  that  the  proprietress  of  the  hotel 
was  a  relative  of  mine,  and  was  very  anxious  to 
meet  me.  Approaching  the  house,  I  saw  a 
lady  waiting  on  the  piazza.  The  agent  intro- 
duced me  by  name.  She  was  strangely  agi- 
tated, and  asked  me  if  I  did  not  once  have  a 
brother-in-law  in  the  colony.  I  replied,  "  No ; 
I  did  have  one  in  Victoria,  but  he  is  no  longer 
alive,  and  I  intend  to  search  out  his  widow 
when  I  visit  Victoria."  The  lady  said,  "  I 
knew  the  husband  intimately  and  also  the 
widow."  I  asked,  "  What  kind  of  woman  is 
the  widow,  and  can  you  tell  me  where  I  can 
find  her?"  She  replied,  "She  is  not  far  to 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    229 

seek  and  is  a  good  woman."  Instantly  I  ex- 
claimed, "Then  you  are  the  widow?"  "Yes," 
was  the  reply,  in  broken  tones. 

A  young  lady,  under  twenty  years  of  age, 
then  came  forward,  and  was  introduced  as 
her  daughter,  who  had  recently  been  married. 
Both  mother  and  daughter  were  greatly 
affected.  After  a  while  I  was  able  to  learn 
their  histories. 

The  dead  husband  was  a  thorough  Ameri- 
can ;  he  had  worked  in  the  mines,  carried  on  a 
sizable  hotel,  and  had  made  a  good  deal  of 
money.  Meantime  his  health  failed  ;  in  short, 
he  was  consumptive.  The  wife  urged  him  to 
make  a  trip  to  the  United  States,  to  see  his 
relations  once  more,  and  then  return.  Decid- 
ing to  carry  out  this  plan,  he  had  a  special 
carriage  made  for  his  comfort  by  which  to  go 
to  Melbourne,  about  two  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant. An  American  was  selected  to  travel 
with  him,  and  a  large  sum  of  money  in  cash 
and  drafts,  sufficient  for  the  entire  trip,  was 
drawn  from  the  bank. 

The  sick  man  started  on  his  long  journey, 
in  very  dejected  spirits.  On  the  second  day 
a  telegram  reached  the  wife  to  the  effect  that 
she  must  hasten  to  a  town  en  route  if  she 
wanted  to  see  her  husband  alive.  She  started 


230    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

at  once,  but  he  had  passed  away  from  this 
life  before  she  could  reach  him.  Very  little  of 
the  money  he  had  taken  was  found  on  his 
person  ;  the  people  round  him  declared  it  must 
have  been  stolen  while  he  lay  asleep  the  first 
night. 

The  usual  troubles  followed, — the  return 
cortege  to  the  desolate  home,  the  law  settle- 
ments, etc.  After  all  expenses  and  debts 
were  paid,  not  much  ready  money  was  left, 
and  of  real  estate  only  the  hotel.  The  lady 
remained  a  widow  for  several  years ;  then  she 
realized  that  a  husband  would  be  a  great  help, 
and  was  married  to  a  good  man. 

A  few  years  were  passed  in  comfort — then 
dire  misery  again  supervened.  The  hotel, 
which  was  a  wooden -frame  building,  took 
fire  and  was  destroyed.  The  wife  saved  some 
personal  effects,  —  among  them  the  former 
husband's  old  American  trunk,  which  had 
always  stood  on  the  piazza  outside  their  door. 
When  trying  to  save  things  from  the  flames, 
she  happened  to  notice  it,  gave  it  a  shove,  and 
it  fell  to  the  ground.  It  was  saved  to  furnish 
a  pathetic  proof  of  the  vicissitudes  which  can 
attend  the  life  of  a  poor  old  American  trunk. 
It  had  now  one  badly  charred  end,  and  the 
body  of  it  barely  held  together. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    231 

Another  thing  saved  was  a  lady's  hat-box 
in  which  were  letters  written  to  the  brother  and 
his  widow  by  my  wife,  also  a  few  carte-de-visite 
pictures  which  we  had  sent  them  from  time  to 
time.  It  was  a  singular  collection  and  illus- 
trated the  story  told  me  by  the  wife  and 
daughter. 

The  latter  showed  me  with  great  pride 
another  thing  she  had  managed  to  save  from 
the  fire,  her  father's  old  American-made  guitar. 
He  was  a  good  player  and  used  to  play  ac- 
companiments for  the  little  daughter's  singing  ; 
so  her  first  instinct  on  the  night  of  the  fire 
was  to  save  the  old  guitar.  As  she  told  me 
the  story  she  took  up  the  old  instrument,  put 
her  arms  round  it,  and  embraced  and  kissed  it 
as  if  in  affectionate  remembrance  of  her  father. 

This  long  story  was  told  after  our  evening 
concert,  and  I  wrote  it  down  in  black  and 
white,  not  daring  to  trust  it  to  memory,  and 
mailed  the  record  to  my  family. 

To  return  to  our  travels,  we  gave  a  fare- 
well concert  at  Sydney  which  was  very  grati- 
fying. The  music-lovers  had  decorated  the 
stage  with  flowers  and  large  English  and 
American  flags.  Enthusiasm  quite  reached 
fever-heat  when,  at  the  right  moment,  a  lady 
came  on  the  stage  and  handed  me,  as  con- 


232    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

ductor  of  the  Club,  two  very  beautiful  flags, 
English  and  American,  made  of  satin,  and  fully 
three  feet  long,  with  an  inscription  in  silver 
letters  wishing  us  all  "  good  luck." 

The  next  day  we  sailed  for  Melbourne,  the 
Mecca  of  our  pilgrimage,  five  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant. We  spent  a  month  delightfully  in  that  city, 
which  we  found  to  be  a  musical  one,  if  several 
musical  societies  and  many  concerts  are  good 
proof  of  that  statement. 

We  made  our  ddbut  in  a  concert  given  by 
the  Apollo  Club,  a  society  built  on  the  lines 
of  that  of  Boston.  It  was  for  us  a  grand 
send-off.  The  conductor  was  Mr.  Julius  Herz, 
an  enthusiastic  and  accomplished  musician. 

Another  fine  musician,  conductor  of  the 
"Melbourne  Club,"  was  Mr.  Julius  Siede, 
with  whom  I  was  glad  to  meet  and  revive  old 
memories.  He  had  come  to  the  United  States 
with  Gungl's  Orchestra,  and  was  a  brilliant 
flautist.  When  that  orchestra  returned  to 
Germany,  Siede  settled  in  New  York,  but 
afterward  came  to  Boston.  He  then  trav- 
elled to  the  antipodes  with  Madame  Anna 
Bishop  and  Bochsa,  the  harpist.  Siede  fi- 
nally made  Melbourne  his  home.  He  was 
curious  to  know  all  about  "the  States,"  and  we 
had  many  long  talks  before  the  time  came  for 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    233 

our  club  to  leave  the  magnificent  city  of  Mel- 
bourne. 

We  sailed  to  Adelaide,  capital  of  South 
Australia,  two  days  distant.  It  is  a  charming 
city  with  a  population  of  fifty  thousand.  We 
gave  about  ten  concerts,  with  fair  success.  We 
had  there  an  experience  of  hot  weather,  never 
to  be  forgotten  ;  for  two  days  the  mercury 
registered  120  degrees  in  the  shade. 

Returning  to  Melbourne,  we  had  a  splendid 
farewell  concert  in  the  grand  City  Hall.  We 
were  honored  by  the  attendance  of  all  the 
city  dignitaries,  in  their  regal  robes.  After 
the  concert,  the  Club  and  the  assisting  artists 
were  treated  to  a  supper  in  the  mayor's  room. 
When  parting-day  came  we  bade  good-bye 
with  regret  to  the  many  Melbourne  people 
who  had  become  warm  friends. 

We  were  now  to  start  on  the  home-stretch, 
— New  Zealand  being  the  point  where  we  be- 
gan to  turn  our  faces  toward  America.  We 
had  a  stormy  sail  of  six  days  to  reach  Inver- 
cargill,  the  lowest  point  on  the  South  Island. 

I  will  give  but  a  summary  of  our  work  in 
New  Zealand :  Three  concerts  in  Invercargill, 
population  6000  ;  ten  in  Dunedin,  population 
40,000 ;  thirteen  in  Christchurch,  population 
28,000  ;  six  in  Auckland,  population  20,000. 


234    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

In  Dunedin  (Scotch  for  Edinboro')  we  met 
with  an  old  fellow-artist,  Mr.  Beno  Schereck, 
who  used  to  travel  as  pianist  with  Madame 
Camille  Urso.  In  Christchurch  (a  city  started 
by  the  Bishop  of  Canterbury)  I  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  meeting  Mr.  Julius  Haast,  the  curator 
of  the  great  Museum.  He  had  lived  in  the 
United  States  many  years,  and  was  famous 
for  being  the  finder  of  the  Moa  bird. 

On  the  trip  to  Auckland  we  stopped  at 
Wellington,  the  capital  of  New  Zealand.  I 
had  a  note  of  introduction  to  Dr.  Hector,  the 
curator  of  the  large  Government  Museum.  He 
also  had  lived  in  the  United  States,  and  was  a 
man  of  resolute  character,  happiest  when  he 
had  some  dangerous  exploring  trip  on  hand. 
I  must  repeat  a  story  he  told.  He  had  been 
ordered  by  the  government  to  visit  the  Maori 
country  and  examine  a  little  lake  singularly 
placed  in  the  cup  of  what  looked  like  an  ex- 
tinct crater,  on  quite  a  high  mountain  ;  the 
water  of  the  lake  having  an  issuance  on  the 
mountainside,  far  below  its  bottom,  thence 
forming  a  river.  The  doctor's  duty  was  to 
obtain  from  the  Maoris  permission  to  examine 
and  measure  it. 

The  mountain  was  in  the  heart  of  the  Maori 
country,  a  sacred  burial-place,  and  of  course 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    235 

tabooed  to  all  white  people.  After  a  long 
journey  on  horseback  he  reached  the  Pa  (vil- 
lage) of  the  tribe,  and  requested  its  chiefs  to 
permit  him  as  government  surveyor  to  make 
a  drawing  of  the  mountain  lake.  They  told 
him  they  would  consider  the  matter,  call  a 
meeting  of  the  chiefs  for  the  next  evening, 
and  then  let  him  know  their  decision.  The 
professor's  time  was  valuable  ;  he  could  n't  wait 
for  the  Maori  red  tape  to  be  measured,  etc. 
Apparently  acquiescing  in  the  arrangements  of 
the  council,  he  spent  the  night  quietly  resting. 
Next  morning  he  started  out  in  an  opposite 
direction  to  the  mountain,  went  into  the  bush, 
found  a  secure  hiding-place  for  his  horse,  tied 
him,  made  a  detour  on  foot,  climbed  the  sacred 
mountain,  and  made  a  satisfying  drawing  of 
the  lake.  It  was  a  very  risky  thing  to  do. 
Returning  to  his  horse  and  back  to  the  village, 
he  attended  the  meeting,  and  received  permis- 
sion, never  before  given  to  a  white  man,  to 
visit  the  sacred  spot;  he  then  showed  them 
his  completed  drawing.  All  they  did  was 
quietly  to  laugh  over  the  affair. 

I  have  seen  goodly  numbers  of  the  Maoris 
on  the  coast  steamers  and  in  the  streets  of 
cities.  Physically,  they  are  a  fine  race, — tall 
and  well  formed.  Only  among  the  old  men 


236    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

can  one  now  see  those  whose  faces  are  tattooed. 
Most  of  the  women,  young  and  old,  are  tat- 
tooed across  the  red  of  both  lips,  then  incurved 
double  lines  toward  the  chin,  meeting  there, 
then  a  small  device  in  the  centre.  The  en- 
semble makes  the  impression  of  a  faint  goatee 
whisker,  when  seen  from  a  little  distance. 

Four  days'  sail  carried  us  to  Auckland, 
where  we  gave  six  successful  concerts.  Then, 
on  the  23d  of  May,  we  embarked  on  the  noble 
steamship  City  of  New  York,  flying  the  "  Stars 
and  Stripes,"  and  commanded  by  the  most 
fatherly  of  men,  Captain  Cobb ;  which  in  good 
time  brought  us  to  our  homeland.* 

En  route,  after  a  voyage  of  fourteen  days, 
we  stopped  at  Honolulu.  It  had  been  ar- 
ranged for  us  to  give  a  concert  in  that  city  if 
circumstances  permitted.  When  our  ship  was 
approaching  the  shore,  on  June  5,  1882,  but 
was  still  about  two  miles  from  the  wharf,  a 
fleet  of  small  boats  came  out  to  meet  friends, 
and  from  one  of  them  came  the  questions,  "  Is 
the  Quintette  Club  on  board  ?  Are  they  ready 
to  give  the  concert  ?  "  To  which  we  joyfully 
replied,  "Yes."  Thereupon,  the  boat  signalled 

*  As  before  stated,  these  notes  of  travel  in  Australia,  etc.,  are 
quoted  from  letters  written  at  the  time,  and  no  attempt  is  made  to 
bring  them  up  to  date. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    237 

the  wharf,  and  the  news  was  sent  to  the  tele- 
phone office.  Thence  it  was  promptly  speeded 
round  the  city,  reserved  seats  were  taken  with 
a  rush,  and  we  had  a  fine  audience.  Nearly 
all  the  passengers  on  our  ship,  250  in  number, 
were  present,  as  well  as  the  best  society  in  the 
place,  including  King  Kalakaua  and  his  court, 
crowding  the  boxes  of  the  opera  house.  Af- 
ter the  concert  we  were  feted  by  a  German 
society*  at  their  club-rooms,  where  we  "  made  a 
night  of  it,"  until  it  was  time  for  the  ship  to 
sail,  early  next  morning. 

A  voyage  of  seven  days  brought  us  to  San 
Francisco.  As  we  sailed  through  the  Golden 
Gate,  and  I  looked  with  mingled  pride  and 
pleasure  on  the  familiar  scenes,  every  object 
seemed  to  have  a  voice,  and  all  sang  to  my 
ears,  "  Welcome  home  again,"  and  I  was  glad. 

When  the  Club  made  its  first  visit  to  Cali- 
fornia, our  singer  was  Miss  Marie  Nellini,  a 
brilliant  singer,  but  a  very  poor  sailor.  When 
preparing  for  Australia,  we  were  able  to  en- 
gage a  good  singer  who  was  also  a  good  sailor, 
Miss  Cora  Miller.  On  our  return  from  Aus- 
tralia, I  was  introduced  by  Mrs.  Rosewald,  the 
well-known  vocal  teacher  in  San  Francisco,  to 
Marie  Barnard.  I  discovered  immediately  that 
she  was  a  genius  in  her  line.  She  travelled 


238    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

with  us  for  two  seasons,  and  then  went  to 
Paris  to  prepare  for  the  operatic  stage.  She 
has  since  developed  into  a  good  actress  under 
the  name  of  Marie  Barna. 

When  leaving  for  Europe  she  promised  to 
find  a  singer  to  replace  her.  In  a  very  few 
weeks  she  cabled  me,  "  Have  found  fine  singer 
for  you."  In  due  season  Miss  Lila  Juel  ar- 
rived, young,  tall,  handsome,  and  a  Swede.  She 
sang  with  me  for  two  years.  It  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  find  a  better  concert  singer  or  a  more 
amiable  person. 

In  1862,  Teresa  Carreno,  a  remarkable  child 
pianist,  nine  years  of  age,  accompanied  by  her 
father  and  mother,  came  to  the  United  States 
from  Caracas,  Venezuela. 

The  father  of  this  "  wonder  child  "  was  a  man 
of  distinguished  political  position  in  his  coun- 
try, and  was  also  a  devoted  musical  amateur. 
He  was  the  child's  only  instructor  up  to  her 
seventh  year  of  age  ;  then  Julius  Hoheni,  a 
German  professor,  took  charge  of  her.  On 
the  arrival  of  the  family  in  New  York,  the  dis- 
tinguished pianist,  Gottschalk,  took  the  great- 
est interest  in  the  little  girl,  gave  her  lessons, 
and  taught  her  many  of  his  brilliant  pieces. 

Teresa  was  gifted  with  a  wonderful  memory. 


MISS  LILA  JUEL. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    239 

She  could  acquire  the  mastery  of  a  lengthy, 
difficult  fantaisie  in  two  or  three  days.  This 
gift  is  always  the  surest  sign  of  a  musical  tem- 
perament that  will  bring  distinction  to  its 
possessor. 

Teresa  made  her  first  appearance  in  Boston, 
January  4,  1863.  She  remained  here  about 
one  month,  and  was  a  great  attraction  at  the 
grand  orchestral  concerts  which  were  given  at 
that  period  under  the  direction  of  Carl  Zerrahn 
or  P.  S.  Gilmore.  She  created  a  furore  of 
enthusiasm  every  time  she  played.  I  doubt 
if  any  child  pianist  of  the  same  age  has  ever 
exceeded  her  in  ability.  Imagine  a  child  of 
nine  years  playing  Thalberg's  Moses,  Gott- 
schalk's  Jerusalem,  and  similar  pieces,  full  of 
technical  difficulties. 

Teresa  was  a  lovable  character,  rather 
sedate  and  thoughtful,  with  very  attractive 
features,  beautiful,  pleading  eyes,  and  a  strong 
and  healthful  physique.  My  family  were 
greatly  attracted  to  her.  She  and  her  mother, 
a  large  handsome  woman,  paid  us  several  visits. 
Teresa  never  failed  to  bring  her  doll  with  her. 

At  the  end  of  the  Boston  visit,  Teresa  gave 
what  was  termed  a  Juvenile  Reception  to  at 
least  three  thousand  school  children  in  Music 
Hall.  She  wished  distinctly  to  do  this  thing; 


240    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

she  said  that  being  herself  a  child,  she  wanted 
the  children  of  Boston  to  hear  her.  At  this  con- 
cert his  Honor  Mayor  Cobb  (I  think  it  was) 
led  Teresa  on  to  the  stage  and  made  a  little 
speech  ;  then  she  played,  to  the  children's  great 
delight ;  after  which  came  the  reception,  first 
in  the  anteroom,  and  then  on  the  stage.  It 
was  with  difficulty  she  could  tear  herself  away 
from  her  young  hearers. 

Carreno's  artistic  life  is  well  known  in  Amer- 
ica, for  though  she  paid  many  visits  to  her  own 
country  and  Europe,  a  large  part  of  her  early 
life  was  spent  among  us.  She  can  certainly  be 
called  American  at  least  by  adoption.  As  a 
pianist  she  has  for  years  stood  in  the  front 
rank  of  brilliant  players.  A  few  seasons  ago 
she  played  the  great  No.  4  Concerto,  by  Ru- 
binstein, in  one  of  the  Boston  Symphony  Con- 
certs. I  was  one  of  the  delighted  listeners. 

While  she  was  thrilling  me  with  her  magnif- 
icent playing  of  the  great  composition,  my 
mind  was  travelling  back  to  her  first  appearance 
in  that  same  Music  Hall,  when  as  a  little  child 
she  had  to  climb  upon  the  music  stool  to 
play  her  piece.  After  the  concert  I  did  myself 
the  honor  of  visiting  her.  In  conversation,  we 
went  over  much  that  had  happened  in  her  art 
life.  She,  as  a  good  American,  wished  to  know 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    241 

all  about  the  progress  of  music  in  the  United 
States  since  she  had  made  her  home  in 
Germany. 

I  regard  her  as  a  wonderful  player  in  all 
respects.  She  is  now  in  the  prime  of  life, 
strong  and  vigorous,  full  of  verve  and  intelli- 
gence, of  fine  mental  grasp,  and  is  as  thoroughly 
devoted  to  her  art  as  she  was  at  twenty  years 
of  age.  Her  great  popularity  therefore  is 
easily  accounted  for. 

16 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

WHEN  our  club  arrived  in  San  Francisco 
from  Australia  in  the  summer  of  '82, 
we  received  a  cable  message  from  Mr.  Henry 
E.  Abbey,  then  in  London,  offering  us  an  en- 
gagement to  travel  the  coming  season  with 
Madame  Christine  Nilsson.  It  was  joyfully 
accepted,  and  the  season  was  one  of  the  pleas- 
antest  we  ever  passed.  We  performed  on  the 
average  three  or  four  times  each  week,  visiting 
only  large  cities  East  and  West,  and  New 
Orleans  and  California.  The  company  com- 
prised :  Madame  Nilsson,  soprano  ;  Miss  Hope 
Glen,  alto  (an  American  singer  who  has  lived 
most  of  her  time  in  London)  ;  Mr.  Theodore 
Biorksten,  tenor  ;  Signer  Del  Puente,  the  well- 
known  baritone ;  Mr.  Charles  Pratt,  accom- 
panist ;  and  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club. 
Madame  Nilsson  was  in  the  prime  of  her 
vocal  powers,  and  her  renditions  of  the  Ah 
Perfido,  Angels  ever  Bright  and  Fair,  and  Con- 
nais  tu  le  pays,  were  examples  of  great  singing. 
};\.zx cheval de battaille,  however,  was  the  "Jewel 

242 


CHRISTINE  NILSSON. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    243 

Song  "  from  Faust,  by  Gounod.  She  used  to 
"  go  through  all  the  motions,"  just  the  same  as 
she  would  in  opera.  Her  ballad  singing  was  a 
revelation  of  the  fine,  tender  heart  she  pos- 
sessed. It  was  a  rare  occasion  when  she  was 
not  forced  by  popular  desire  to  sing  the  Suwanee 
River.  She  doubtless  will  be  remembered  by 
the  great  mass  of  music-lovers  as  the  lady  who 
sang  so  touchingly  about  the  "  old  folks  at 
home." 

Many  people  have  an  incorrect  idea  of 
Madame  Nilsson's  personality ;  it  was  popu- 
larly reported  that  she  was  cold,  austere,  dis- 
tant, and  unapproachable.  As  I  had  a  rare 
opportunity  to  learn  her  true  character,  I  can 
sum  it  up  in  a  few  words  :  in  public  and  on  the 
stage  she  was  dignified  and  queen-like,  but  in 
private  life  she  was  full  of  geniality  and  amia- 
bility. As  an  example  of  her  good-heartedness 
I  will  instance  a  pleasant  evening  she  made 
for  us  on  Christmas  eve  in  Denver,  Colorado. 

During  the  day  she  sent  for  me  and  re- 
quested me  to  get  the  members  of  the  com- 
pany to  meet  together  in  her  parlor  at  sharp 
nine  in  the  evening,  and  confided  to  me  her 
plans  for  their  entertainment.  Accordingly  I 
saw  them  all  and  suggested  that  it  would  be 
a  charming  thing  for  us  to  surprise  Nilsson 


244    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

with  a  Christmas-eve  call ;  as  fellow-artists  she 
certainly  would  be  delighted  to  see  us.  They 
thought  it  a  good  idea ;  and  we  called  on  her 
very  near  the  appointed  hour,  each  one  entering 
singly,  and  expressing  pleasure  at  meeting  the 
others. 

Nilsson  carried  out  her  part  with  the  tact  of  a 
consummate  actress,  receiving  each  visitor  with 
amiable  and  friendly  greeting.  Altogether 
there  were  eleven  of  us,  besides  the  Danish 
minister  and  his  wife.  For  a  while  we  had  a 
pleasant  time  chatting  with  our  hostess  and  each 
other ;  then  suddenly  we  heard  three  sharp 
knocks  on  the  door, — bang-bang-bang, — and 
we  all  cried  out,  "  II  Commendatore  from  Don 
Giovanni ! " 

"  Mercy  on  us,  what  is  that ! "  exclaimed 
Nilsson.  Bang-bang-bang, — came  three  more 
knocks.  "  Won't  some  one  go  to  the  door  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  Such  a  knock  as  that  on  Christ- 
mas eve  is  rather  terrifying." 

I  ran  to  the  door,  opened  it  cautiously,  and 
then  threw  it  wide  open,  disclosing  to  view  two 
men  with  a  great  basket,  big  enough  for  the 
"  buck-basket "  in  Falstaff.  "  Madame,"  I  ex- 
plained, "  these  men  say  they  have  been  or- 
dered to  bring  this  basket  to  you,  with  Mr. 
Abbey's  compliments." 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    245 

The  basket  was  set  in  the  midst  of  the 
room ;  the  lid  was  lifted  ;  Nilsson  went  down 
beside  it,  and  after  removing  a  mass  of  paper 
and  wrappings  brought  a  lot  of  Christmas  gifts 
to  light, — one  for  each  of  the  party,  all  duly 
marked  in  her  own  handwriting. 

After  these  gifts  had  all  been  received,  and 
inspected  with  much  pleasure  and  merriment, 
Madame  Nilsson  said,  "  Mr.  Ryan,  please  help 
me  to  put  the  basket  outside  the  door  "  ;  and  I 
ran  to  aid  her.  As  we  lifted  it  she  said, 
"  Why,  I  feel  a  great  weight  still ;  what  can  it 
be  ? "  Dipping  down  deeper  into  the  basket 
she  brought  up  some  very  nice  things  to  eat, 
and  a  goodly  number  of  bottles  of  Golden-Seal 
champagne. 

We  drank  to  the  health  of  everybody,  our 
hearts  grew  light  and  merry,  and  the  home- 
sickness we  felt  at  being  away  from  home  on 
Christmas  eve  was  dispelled.  It  was  in  Nils- 
son's  power,  as  the  "  star  "  of  the  company,  to 
make  us  all  happy,  and  most  charmingly  she 
did  it.  Her  thoughtfulness  on  that  occasion 
placed  her  very  high  in  my  estimation. 

A  few  years  later,  we  received  another  cable 
message  from  Mr.  Henry  E.  Abbey,  engaging 
our  club  to  travel  with  the  wonderful  boy  pian- 


246    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

1st,  Otto  Hegner.  We  opened  the  season 
with  him  in  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House  in 
New  York  City.  For  that  occasion,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  Hegner  company,  a  grand  orchestra 
under  Walter  Damrosch  was  employed.  The 
engagement  lasted  less  than  three  months,  for 
the  "  star  boy-pianist,"  though  acknowledged 
by  the  press  to  be  a  marvel  for  one  so  young, 
did  not  "  take  "  well  enough  with  the  public  to 
produce  good  financial  results.  It  was  there- 
fore wise  to  end  the  tour  as  soon  as  the  situa- 
tion became  evident. 

In  the  previous  year  the  little  Josie  Hoff- 
mann, another  boy  pianist,  had  had  an  enormous 
success  under  Mr.  Abbey's  management,  and 
a  repetition  of  the  same  kind  of  performance 
is  pretty  sure  to  be  a  failure.  The  young  Heg- 
ner was  a  perfect  little  darling,  and  yet  a  manly 
boy,  of  lovable  disposition,  entirely  unaffected, 
unspoiled,  tractable,  and  respectful  to  his  father 
to  a  degree  not  generally  found  in  such  preco- 
cious folk.  When  he  returned  to  Europe  he 
was  placed  under  competent  masters  for  sys- 
tematic study.  The  boy  of  yore  has  now 
grown  to  man's  estate,  and  his  genius  is  ac- 
knowledged, for  he  has  played  with  success 
in  the  best  concerts  given  in  the  capitals  of 
Europe. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

A  HISTORY  of  the  incidents  and  happen- 
ings that  our  club  met  with  while  filling 
engagements  would  suffice  to  fill  a  book  of 
respectable  size.  Some  of  them  were  exas- 
perating, some  were  droll,  and  others  were 
discouraging.  But  they  were  all  "  in  the  day's 
work,"  and  helped  to  make  up  the  life.  I 
recall  a  few,  which  may  serve  as  types  of  the 
numerous  whole. 

The  first  concert  we  ever  gave  in  Topeka, 
Kansas,  about  thirty-five  years  ago,  was  signal- 
ized by  a  scene  I  shall  not  soon  forget.  We 
had  a  full  house  in  the  local  concert  hall.  I 
noticed  when  we  began  to  play  that  the  front 
row  of  seats  was  empty,  evidently  reserved 
for  some  special  people.  Those  "  specials " 
came  in  while  we  played  our  first  piece.  They 
were  Indians,  about  twelve  in  number,  some 
being  "  blanket  Indians" — which  means  that 
they  wore  their  brilliant  blue  and  yellow  striped 
blankets  shawl-wise,  and  their  buckskin  mocca- 
sins, and  that  their  faces  and  front  hair  were 

247 


248    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

painted.  The  rest  of  the  party  were  dressed  like 
good,  stock-raising  American  farmers,  but  were 
unmistakably  Indians.  I  was  told  there  was  a 
father  with  six  sons  in  the  party,  all  very  large, 
broad-shouldered  men.  They  filed  quietly  into 
their  seats,  preceded  by  a  local  guide,  in  whose 
hands  they  seemed  like  good,  docile  children. 

They  had  come  to  town  to  get  their  govern- 
ment allowance,  and  our  local  agent  induced 
them  to  take  in  the  show.  It  was  doubtless 
a  case  of  reciprocity,  for  we  certainly  "  took 
them  in."  One  can  never  know  what  they 
thought  of  us,  but  one  can  do  something  in 
the  way  of  inference.  They  sat  quite  immov- 
able in  their  seats,  with  their  ox-like  eyes  fixed 
on  our  party  while  we  played  serious  music. 
No  shadow  of  emotion  could  be  seen  on  their 
countenances. 

The  fifth  number  of  the  programme  was  a 
violin  solo  played  by  Mr.  Schultze,  and  for  an 
encore  he  gave  a  little  caprice  entitled,  The 
Bird  in  the  Tree,  a  charming  jeu  d' esprit,  by 
Miska  Hauser,  which  represents  the  joyful, 
almost  delirious,  singing  of  a  wild  bird  in  the 
woods.  The  moment  Mr.  Schultze  began  this 
piece,  the  Indians  were  all  alive,  their  eyes 
sparkled  with  pleasure,  and  they  nudged  each 
other  with  their  elbows.  And  when  the  little 


OTTO  HEQNER  AND  HIS  FATHER.  Page  246 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    249 

bird-melody  and  imitations  of  bird  singing  be- 
gan (all  done  in  high  harmonic,  flageolet  tones 
on  the  violin),  they  looked  all  around  the  ceil- 
ing and  the  walls,  doubtless  expecting  to  see 
singing-birds  flitting  about.  Not  seeing  any, 
they  looked  at  the  violinist,  and  began  to  un- 
derstand that  he  was  the  magician.  The 
surprise,  and  almost  incredulity,  which  was 
depicted  on  the  faces  of  these  children  of  na- 
ture was  a  rare  show  in  itself.  At  its  conclu- 
sion they  jumped  up  and  down  just  as  little 
children  do  when  something  unusual  pleases 
them. 

This  violin  piece  ended  the  first  part  of  the 
programme.  Our  second  part  began  with  an- 
other serious  piece,  and  the  twelve  pairs  of 
eyes  lapsed  into  the  ox-like  placidity  again. 
Very  shortly  the  red  men  had  had  enough  of 
us  "  freaks,"  and  they  quietly  rose  and  filed 
out  of  the  hall. 

In  this  same  Topeka,  many  years  later,  the 
concluding  piece  on  one  of  our  programmes 
was  a  potpourri  which  began  with  the  intro- 
duction to  the  Der  Freischiitz  overture.  We 
had  a  good  house  and  a  crowded  gallery.  In 
the  latter  two  men  were  seated  on  the  right- 
hand  side  near  the  stage,  who,  when  we  began 
the  closing  piece,  attempted  to  get  out.  They 


250    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

had  to  walk  down  one  side  of  the  hall,  then 
across  the  end,  then  up  the  other  side,  before 
reaching  the  door,  which  was  the  only  means 
of  ingress  or  egress  to  the  gallery — an  awful 
fire-trap.  We  began  the  introduction  to  the 
overture.  At  this  point,  up  rose  the  two  men 
and  started  for  the  door.  We  stopped  playing. 
The  silence  told  the  men  that  something  had 
happened,  and  they  sat  down  again,  probably 
not  wishing  to  make  a  show  of  themselves  by 
walking  out,  in  their  number  elevens,  without 
music.  All  being  quiet,  we  began  the  opening 
phrase  once  more ;  up  rose  again  the  two  men 
and  began  their  march.  Again  we  stopped, 
wishing  to  let  them  get  out  and  not  have  our 
piece  spoiled ;  and  again  they  stood  still,  this 
time  in  the  aisle  next  the  wall.  We  waited  a 
little,  and  hearing  no  noise  we  began  for  the 
third  time.  Instantly,  one  of  the  men,  who  at 
this  point  had  probably  "got  his  mad  up," 
started  for  the  door.  With  him  it  was  "  Pike's 
Peak  or  bust "  this  time.  When  we  heard  the 
noise  we  stopped  again,  whereupon  the  audi- 
ence began  to  titter,  and  the  man  making  for 
the  door  ran  the  gauntlet  of  many  ironical 
remarks  from  the  boys,  such  as,  "  Take  your 
time,  old  fellow,"— "  No  hurry,"— "  He'll  get 
there,"—"  The  fiddles  '11  wait,"  etc.  Finally  he 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    251 

reached  the  door  and  slammed  it  with  all  his 
might,  a  parting  benediction  which,  as  a  rever- 
end friend  afterward  remarked,  said  "  Damn  ! " 
as  surely  as  a  word  could  be  translated  into 
action.  The  entire  audience  understood  it  in 
that  sense  and  burst  into  a  perfect  roar  of 
laughter. 

When  quiet  was  restored  we  played  the 
piece,  and  ended  the  concert. 

Many  of  our  young  and  inexperienced  friends 
probably  think  we  have  led  a  very  sunny  life, 
flitting  from  one  scene  of  enjoyment  to  another. 
Perhaps  we  have  had  our  share  of  good  times  ; 
but  I  know  to  a  certainty  that  we  have  had 
to  take  our  share  of  hardships  while  travelling 
in  the  West  thirty  years  ago.  Railroads  were 
not  so  plentiful  as  now,  and  we  often  had  to 
travel  on  boats  and  in  stage-coaches. 

We  had  given  a  concert  in  Winona,  Minn., 
and  were  booked  next  evening  for  La  Crosse, 
Wis.,  twenty-six  miles  distant,  both  places 
being  on  the  Mississippi  River.  It  was  planned 
that  we  should  take  a  boat  at  six  A.M.  We  were 
called  and  had  breakfast  in  good  season,  but 
the  boat  did  not  show  up.  About  ten  A.M., 
word  came  that  she  had  encountered  a  severe 
storm  up-river,  and  would  not  reach  Winona 


252    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

till  about  ten  in  the  evening.  There  was  a 
regular  mail-boat  which  left  Winona  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  in  time  to  reach  La 
Crosse  at  eight  in  the  evening ;  but  that  was 
rather  late  to  arrive,  as  the  landing  was  a  good 
mile  distant  from  town.  Desiring  to  fill  our 
engagement  in  proper  time  and  shape,  I  sought 
advice,  and  finally  arranged  with  a  livery-stable 
man  to  convey  us  by  land.  We  did  not  get 
started  until  eleven  in  the  forenoon  ;  then  we 
were  packed,  seven  in  number,  into  a  canvas- 
covered  wagon,  a  genuine  "prairie  schooner." 
We  had  eight  heavy  trunks,  making  a  con- 
siderable load. 

I  had  bargained  to  pay  the  man  thirty-five 
dollars,  and  he  agreed  to  land  us  in  La  Crosse 
by  five  or  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  As  soon 
as  we  were  all  loaded,  he  demanded  his  money 
in  advance.  Like  an  idiot  (I  did  not  know 
the  world  so  well  then  as  I  did  later)  I  paid  it. 
We  lost  time  in  crossing  the  river,  and  it  was 
after  twelve  o'clock  before  we  reached  the 
Wisconsin  shore.  We  then  had  a  drive  of 
about  eight  miles  of  bottom-land  through  the 
woods, — a  drive  of  the  most  jolting,  dislocating, 
seasickening  character,  accompanied  with  the 
constant  expectation  of  being  capsized.  In 
fact  it  was  simply  horrible.  We  were  shut  up 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    253 

suffocatingly  close  under  the  canvas,  for  it 
was  midwinter  and  extremely  cold. 

About  four  in  the  afternoon  we  had  climbed 
to  a  plateau  above  the  bottom-lands,  and  drew 
up  in  front  of  a  big  barn  with  a  little  house 
attached  to  it,  where  we  got  out  of  our  prairie 
schooner,  hoping  to  get  something  in  the  line 
of  food.  A  very  hard-worked,  careworn-look- 
ing woman  told  us  she  had  nothing  in  the 
house  but  salt  pork  and  potatoes ;  with  tea, 
but  no  coffee,  and  neither  bread  nor  crackers. 
We  asked  her  to  make  some  tea,  which  she 
did ;  but  as  the  stablemen  quickly  changed 
horses  and  cried  "  All  aboard ! "  we  could 
swallow  but  little  of  the  scalding-hot  beverage. 

As  we  started  I  casually  asked  our  driver 
what  time  he  expected  to  reach  La  Crosse, 
—and  he  thought  we  might  get  there  between 
nine  and  ten  !  That  reply  made  my  heart 
sink.  I  expostulated,  saying,  "You  know  the 
liveryman  agreed  to  deliver  us  at  six  P.M.  at 
the  latest."  The  driver  replied,  "  It  is  im- 
possible ;  we  are  still  seventeen  miles  from  La 
Crosse." 

I  then  understood  our  dilemma,  and  the 
blunder  we  had  made  by  not  taking  the  mail- 
steamer,  and  also  by  paying  in  advance.  We 
were  in  the  clutches  of  unprincipled  men. 


254    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

After  considering  for  a  while  what  I  could  do 
to  better  the  situation,  I  untied  the  canvas 
where  I  sat,  told  the  driver  to  put  his  head 
near  to  me,  and  whispered  into  his  ear,  "If 
you  can  get  us  into  La  Crosse  by  eight  P.M.,  you 
personally  will  be  ten  dollars  richer."  He 
replied,  "  All  right ;  I'  11  do  it." 

From  that  time  he  labored  hard  for  it,  and 
almost  overturned  us  when  descending  a  steep 
hill  leading  to  the  Blackwater  River,  a  narrow 
and  shallow  stream  which  we  had  to  cross 
on  a  flat-bottomed  ferry-boat,  run  on  a  wire. 
When  about  half-way  over,  we  stuck  on  a 
sand-bank,  and  the  order  came,  "Turn  out 
all  hands  and  help  to  pole  her  off."  The 
ferrymen  got  into  the  shallow  water  on  the 
bank  and  pried  the  boat  off ;  we  lost  a  good 
thirty  minutes  by  that  mishap,  but  it  rested 
our  horses,  and  we  were  rushed  forward,  and 
finally  reached  the  opera  house  at  8.15.  As 
we  got  out,  we  heard  the  mail-boat  whistle  ! 

Dead  tired,  hungry,  without  even  a  chance 
to  wash  our  hands  or  brush  our  hair,  and 
wearing  clothes  in  which  we  had  travelled,  we 
unpacked  our  instruments  and  music,  and 
went  through  the  entire  programme,  doing  our 
best  to  play  and  sing  for  the  pleasure  of  the 
large  audience.  In  the  midst  of  our  first  piece 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    255 

we  heard  the  rattle  of  carriages  which  had 
been  sent  to  the  boat  to  transfer  us  quickly  to 
the  opera  house.  The  drivers  brought  up 
word,  "Not  aboard,"  and  then  learned  we  had 
come  overland  and  were  performing  on  the 
stage.  When  starting  from  Winona  we  could 
not  telegraph,  as  the  wires  were  down. 

That  was  a  day  not  easily  forgotten, — no  food 
from  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  eleven  at 
night,  and  bitter  cold  weather.  But  people 
can  do  wonders  when  duty  forces  them  on. 

I  recall  another  very  disagreeable  journey 
for  which  some  fortitude  was  necessary.  We 
had  played  at  a  concert  in  Honesdale,  Penn- 
sylvania, and  were  booked  for  Montrose  the 
following  night.  We  had  arranged  to  take  a 
"  gravity  road  "  to  Scranton,  twenty-four  miles 
distant,  but  a  heavy  snow-storm  had  blocked 
it  up ;  no  train  could  run ;  and  the  question 
arose,  could  we  not  be  carried  by  sleighs? 
Duty  was  spurring  us  on  to  meet  our  engage- 
ment and  earn  our  fees.  We  went  to  a  livery- 
man, who  said  he  would  get  us  to  Scranton 
in  time  for  the  afternoon  train  to  Montrose 
Junction,  or  he  would  make  no  charge  for  the 
effort.  That  was  a  good  principle  to  work  on. 

We  agreed  to  start  at  six  in  the  morning. 
The  weather  was  clear  but  very  cold.  Our 


256    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

seven  people  and  the  driver  were  in  a  three- 
seated  open  sleigh,  while  the  eight  trunks 
and  the  double-bass  (in  a  large,  heavy  case) 
were  in  a  "  pung."  We  took  plenty  of  shovels 
with  us,  as  our  road  was  over  a  mountainous 
region.  Many  times  we  had  to  take  down 
stone  and  wooden  fences  to  get  out  of  snow- 
drifts into  open  fields  on  clear  ridges.  The 
pung  and  baggage  were,  of  course,  the  impedi- 
menta ;  we  had  to  unload  and  shovel  out  very 
often.  About  ten  o'clock  we  came  to  a  small 
village  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  where  we  got  some 
coffee,  and  where  the  people  declared  that  we 
could  not  possibly  get  over  the  next  hill,  as 
the  road  was  full  of  drifts  ;  but  our  driver  was 
confident  of  success,  and  inspired  us  with  his 
pluck.  We  started  again,  and  encountered 
many  difficulties.  We  upset  twice  while  driv- 
ing into  fields ;  and  once  all  our  people  were 
thrown  into  a  ditch,  the  sleigh  completely 
covering  us,  but  our  driver  crawled  out  and 
helped  us  out.  The  atmosphere  just  then  was 
heavy  with  mutterings,  but  Miss  Ella  Lewis, 
our  brave  and  bright  singer  from  Maine, 
kept  our  tempers  sweet  by  infusing  into  us 
the  hopefulness  of  her  own  steady  courage. 
What  a  lucky  thing  it  is  for  mankind  in  general 
to  have  a  woman  near  when  trouble  comes ! 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    257 

We  were  making  very  slow  progress,  and 
began  to  despair  of  reaching  Scranton ;  but 
about  one  o'clock  we  saw  men  and  teams  get- 
ting out  ice  in  a  valley  below  us,  when  we 
knew  that  our  chances  were  favorable ;  and 
we  really  got  there  with  half  an  hour  to  spare. 
We  had  a  good  dinner,  gave  our  benedictions 
to  the  brave  liveryman,  and  took  the  train 
for  Montrose  Junction.  There  was  another 
steep  mountain  to  climb,  but  I  had  telegraphed 
the  Montrose  people  that  we  were  coming, 
and  they  sent  us  special  teams,  for  the  snow- 
drifts were  deep.  We  finally  reached  the 
hotel  at  half-past  seven.  The  people  gave  us 
a  right  royal  welcome,  for  they  fully  appreci- 
ated our  heroic  struggle  to  fill  our  engage- 
ment ;  and  we  were  happy  because  our  efforts 
had  been  crowned  with  success. 

Printers  have  played  some  funny  tricks  with 
our  programmes  at  times.  It  is  a  dangerous 
thing  not  to  see  a  "  proof "  before  printing, 
but  often  the  programme  has  to  be  "  rushed," 
and  there  is  no  opportunity.  One  of  our 
violinists  was  to  play  a  solo  on  the  old  French 
air,  "  Je  suis  le  petit  tambour"  When  the 
concert  was  over,  my  attention  was  called  to 
this  number  on  the  programme,  which  read, 
to  my  horror,  "Jesus  le  petit  tambour." 


258    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

At  another  time,  Mr.  Schultze  was  playing 
nightly  the  old  caprice  by  Miska  Hauser, 
entitled,  The  Bird  in  the  Tree.  Writing  the 
programme  one  day  in  the  office  of  the  printer, 
I  incautiously  wrote,  "  Bird  business,  Mr. 
Schultze,"  supposing  that  they  would  print 
the  full  title  as  usual.  The  programmes  were 
printed  without  giving  me  a  chance  to  read 
the  proof.  When  we  came  to  that  special 
number,  we  noticed  a  peculiar  buzz  and  fun- 
enjoying  condition  among  our  auditors.  When 
the  concert  was  over,  we  inquired  the  cause, 
and  a  friend  replied,  handing  us  a  programme, 
"  We  wanted  to  know  when  Mr.  Schultze  was 
to  begin  his  '  bird  business.' "  It  was  a  funny 
way  to  learn  a  useful  lesson. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

AMONG  the  many  musicians  with  whom  I 
have  been  brought  into  contact  from 
time  to  time,  there  are  some  who,  for  reasons 
personal  or  musical,  or  both,  seem  to  deserve 
special  mention  before  I  close  these  recollec- 
tions. 

One  of  them  is  J.  C.  D.  Parker,  a  thorough 
American,  born  in  Boston.  His  father  was  a 
steadfast  member  and  worker  of  the  Handel 
and  Haydn  Society.  Mr.  Parker,  Jr.,  was 
from  childhood  a  loving  student  of  music, 
although  for  a  time  after  his  graduation  at 
Harvard  in  1848,  he  studied  law  ;  but  eventu- 
ally his  strong  musical  bent  rebelled  against 
the  giving  up  of  his  life  to  a  profession  for 
which  he  had  no  hearty  inclination.  At  that 
period  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club  was 
doing  a  deal  of  hard  studying,  and  young 
Parker  was  a  constant  and  welcome  visitor  at 
our  rehearsals.  It  is  probable  that  our  club 
is  responsible  for  whatever  trouble  or  loss  may 
have  come  to  him  through  having  made  music 

259 


260    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

his  life-work.  At  all  events  he  finally  started 
for  Leipsic,  and  devoted  himself  to  study  for 
three  or  four  years  under  skilful  teachers. 

Returning  to  Boston  in  1854,  he  became  one 
of  our  fine  concert  pianists,  playing  concertos 
in  the  Harvard  Society  concerts  and  most  of 
the  chamber  works  in  those  of  the  Mendelssohn 
Quintette  Club.  His  solid  reputation,  how- 
ever, has  been  earned  as  a  composer.  He  is 
also  well  known  by  his  fine  translations  of 
foreign  works  on  harmony,  which  have  been 
of  the  greatest  service  to  musicians. 

Although  born  in  Germany,  Ernst  Perabo 
was  brought  to  this  country  as  a  child  in  1852, 
and  can  be  considered  a  good  American  by 
this  time.  He  received  most  of  his  fine  mu- 
sical training  in  the  Leipsic  Conservatory, 
but  returned  to  this  country  in  1865,  and  con- 
tinued his  piano  studies  here.  While  still  a 
young  man  he  ventured  on  a  public  perform- 
ance in  New  York  City,  where  the  critics 
promptly  discovered  that  he  was  a  consum- 
mately fine  pianist.  Shortly  after,  he  came  to 
Boston  and  made  a  successful  ddbut  in  one  of 
the  Harvard  Society  concerts,  playing  with 
great  Jclat  the  Hummel  Septette. 

Since  then  he  has  been  one  of  our  most 
progressive  artists,  and  stands  by  right  in  the 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    261 

front  rank.  Though  he  has  played  most  of 
the  great  modern  compositions,  his  specialty 
is  his  fine  rendering  of  Beethoven's  works.  As 
a  teacher  he  is  held  in  high  esteem.  Alto- 
gether, he  is  an  earnest,  thinking  musician, 
who  brings  to  our  little  musical  world  new  and 
bright  ideas. 

He  has  made  a  lengthy  list  of  the  most 
useful  arrangements  for  the  pianoforte  from 
various  orchestral  and  other  works. 

Arthur  Foote,  born  in  Salem,  Mass.,  is  an 
American  musician  of  enviable  reputation, — 
a  first-class  pianist  and  organist,  and  a  com- 
poser of  high  degree.  His  musical  training 
has  all  been  obtained  in  this  country ;  from 
Stephen  Emery  in  harmony,  B.  J.  Lang  in 
piano  and  organ,  and  J.  K.  Paine  in  composi- 
tion. But  after  all,  and  best  of  all,  he  has 
dug  the  most  valuable  part  of  his  acquirements 
out  of  himself, — aus  eigener  Kraft,  as  the 
Germans  would  say. 

As  a  composer  he  has  presented  us  with  a 
long  list  of  fine  works,  including  most  charm- 
ing songs ;  while  his  larger  compositions  have 
been  played  and  sung  in  the  best  concerts 
throughout  the  country.  And  as  he  is  still  in 
the  prime  of  life  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  he  will 
produce  many  more  works  from  that  fine  mu- 


262    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

sical  vein  which  he  so  abundantly  possesses, — 
a  vein  of  warm,  rare  musical  feeling,  aptly 
controlled  by  musical  science. 

Portland,  Maine,  has  the  honor  of  being  the 
birthplace  of  J.  K.  Paine,  who  is  easily  one  of 
the  foremost  American*  composers  of  music  in 
classic  form.  His  works  include  organ,  cham- 
ber, symphonic,  and  oratorio  music ;  and  he  is 
a  practical  organist  of  marked  ability.  Most 
of  his  training  was  received  in  Germany ;  and 
while  he  was  there  he  composed  a  mass  for 
grand  orchestra,  solos,  and  chorus,  which  was 
produced  under  his  direction  in  Berlin,  and  to 
which  the  press  of  that  city  gave  unstinted 
praise.  Since  his  return  to  America  in  1861, 
he  has  proved  himself  to  be  a  most  industrious 
and  capable  artist. 

So  much  public  praise  has  been  given  to  him 
and  his  works  that  there  is  no  need  for  me  to 
add  to  it ;  it  gives  me  pleasure,  nevertheless, 
to  express  my  sincere  admiration  of  his  genius. 
Harvard  University  honored  itself  and  the  art 
of  music  when  it  appointed  Mr.  Paine  to  a 
professorship  in  its  faculty.  It  was  a  good 
example  which  has  been  followed  by  other 
seats  of  learning. 

In  approaching  the  name  of  my  dear  son-in- 
law,  George  William  Sumner,  so  much  of  sor- 


GEORGE  W.  SUMNER. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    263 

row  at  his  untimely  death  fills  my  heart  that  I 
am  unfitted  to  say  what  his  memory  deserves. 

My  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Sumner  began 
when  I  was  searching  for  good  pianoforte 
teachers  for  the  National  College  of  Music. 
Inquiries  made  among  the  older  artists  usually 
brought  out  strong  recommendations  of  "young 
Sumner."  He  therefore  became  one  of  our 
teachers,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  mar- 
ried my  oldest  daughter.  He  was  a  fine  fellow, 
and  when  he  was  taken  from  us  he  left  a  void 
impossible  to  fill. 

The  testimony  of  history,  when  it  refers  to 
the  life  of  a  good  man,  remains  a  precious  leg- 
acy to  all  who  loved  the  subject.  I  therefore 
quote  from  the  Boston  Transcript  of  August, 
1890: 

"  Mr.  George  W.  Sumner  was  born  of  a  musical  family 
in  Spencer,  Mass.,  in  1848.  He  early  showed  his  musical 
proclivities,  and  while  still  a  child  displayed  enough 
talent  to  warrant  his  exhibition  in  public.  His  father, 
however, — Mr.  William  Sumner,  for  many  years  a  teacher 
and  music  dealer  in  Worcester, — took  pains  to  have  the 
boy's  education  properly  directed,  and  to  that  end  placed 
him  under  the  best  available  instructors,  Mr.  B.  J.  Lang 
being  the  last  one. 

"  Mr.  Sumner's  proficiency  as  a  pianist,  organist,  and 
teacher  was  of  high  character.  His  appearances  as  a 
performer  of  pianoforte  concertos  in  the  '  Harvard '  and 


264    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

the  '  Boston  Symphony  '  Societies,  as  a  pianist  in  cham- 
ber concerts,  or  as  accompanist  at  the  piano  or  organ 
with  the  '  Handel  and  Haydn  Society,'  the '  Cecilia,'  the 
'  Apollo,'  and  '  Boylston  '  Clubs,  were  alike  creditable 
to  the  occasion,  to  his  art,  and  to  himself. 

"  Mr.  Sumner's  longest  term  of  service  as  a  church 
organist  was  in  the  Arlington  Street  Church,  where  for 
eighteen  years  he  had  charge  of  the  music,  and  dis- 
played no  little  talent  in  composition  ;  but  these  compo- 
sitions were  all  in  the  line  of  hymns  or  anthems,  and  few 
were  ever  published.  Two  notable  pieces  are  in  use  in 
all  churches,  When  Winds  are  Raging  and  Let  your  Light 
so  Shine.  This  latter  is  an  alto  solo. 

"  In  1879,  Mr.  Sumner  was  appointed  director  of  the 
Orpheus  Club,  of  Springfield,  Mass.  He  brought  the 
Club  to  a  high  rank  among  male-voice  choirs.  His  mu- 
sical tastes,  though  refined  and  exacting,  were  broad  and 
comprehensive.  Personally,  he  was  a  man  of  genial 
temperament,  unaffected  and  sincere. 

"  He  left  a  widow,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Thomas  Ryan, 
and  a  young  daughter." 

Mr.  John  S.  Dwight  also  contributed  a  no- 
tice in  the  Boston  Transcript,  which  testifies 
to  the  respect  Mr.  Sumner  had  inspired  among 
his  professional  brethren  : 

"  In  Memoriam  :  George  William  Sumner. —  The 
musical  tribute  paid  to  the  memory  of  this  gifted,  ser- 
viceable, generous,  and  amiable  young  artist  by  his  pro- 
fessional associates  and  hosts  of  friends,  at  the  Music 
Hall  on  Tuesday  afternoon,  November  25th,  was  a 
touching  and  memorable  occasion.  The  great  Hall  was 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    265 

at  least  two  thirds  filled  with  sympathetic,  serious  listen- 
ers. Nearly  all  the  leading  singers,  pianists,  teachers, 
composers,  and  high-class  musicians  of  our  city,  lent 
their  aid  most  heartily  to  the  carrying  out  of  a  signifi- 
cant and  worthy  programme.  The  list  of  participants 
included  all  these  names  : 

"  Mr.  Carl  Baermann,  Mr.  George  Chadwick,  Miss 
Gertrude  Edmands,  Mr.  Carl  Faelten,  Mrs.  E.  C.  Fen- 
derson,  Mr.  Arthur  Foote,  Miss  Gertrude  Franklin,  Miss 
Elizabeth  Hamlin,  Mr.  Clarence  E.  Hay,  Mr.  Anton 
Hekking  ('cellist),  Mr.  Franz  Kneisel  (concert-master), 
Mr.  Gardner  S.  Lamson,  Mr.  B.  J.  Lang,  Mr.  E.  A. 
MacDowell,  Mrs.  Gertrude  Swayne  Matthews,  Mr.  Ivan 
Morawski,  Mr.  Ethelbert  Nevin,  Mr.  Arthur  Nikisch 
(symphony  conductor),  Mr.  George  J.  Parker,  Mr.  Ernst 
Perabo,  Mr.  Carl  Pfluger,  Mr.  Joshua  Phippen,  Miss 
Louise  Rollwagen,  Mr.  J.  H.  Ricketson,  Mr.  Sullivan 
A.  Sargent,  Mrs.  J.  E.  Tippett,  Mr.  H.  G.  Tucker,  Mrs. 
Jennie  Patrick  Walker,  Mr.  B.  L.  Whelpley,  Miss  Har- 
riet Whiting,  Mr.  Arthur  Whiting,  Mr.  William  J. 
Winch,  Mr.  Carl  Zerrahn  (oratorio  director)." 

Of  this  concert  the  Boston  Herald  said  : 

"  The  most  remarkable  programme  arranged  in  recent 
years  was  prepared  for  the  concert  in  memory  of  George 
William  Sumner,  whose  recent  death  deprived  the  Ar- 
lington Street  Church  of  its  accomplished  musical 
director,  and  left  a  vacancy  in  a  wide  circle  of  friends 
that  will  not  soon  be  forgotten." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

WHILE  the  Civil  War  was  going  on,  the 
government  was  already  planning 
soldiers'  homes  for  the  battered  and  crippled 
men  left  in  its  terrible  wake.  The  first  Home 
was  more  like  a  hospital  for  invalids  than  it  was 
strictly  a  Home,  and  was  established  in  the 
suburbs  of  Milwaukee. 

The  Quintette  Club  being  in  that  city,  I  hap- 
pened to  meet  Ex-Governor  Smith  of  New 
Hampshire,  with  whom  I  had  a  slight  acquaint- 
ance ;  and  who  told  me  that  he  and  the  other 
commissioners  appointed  by  the  government  to 
build  and  look  after  these  Homes,  had  arranged 
to  visit  the  new  buildings  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, go  through  with  the  formality  of  accept- 
ance, and  have  the  first  flag-raising.  He  invited 
me  to  bring  our  club,  and  contribute  a  little 
music  for  the  occasion,  which  we  gladly  agreed 
to  do. 

Next  morning  about  six  to  eight  carriage 
loads  of  citizens,  with  the  commissioners  and 
our  party,  started  for  the  Home,  where  the 

266 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    267 

ceremony  was  to  take  place  at  precisely  twelve 
o'clock.  It  was  a  very  unpropitious  morning ; 
a  furious  gale  was  "  blowing  great  guns,"  and 
it  was  difficult  to  face  it  and  stand  upright. 
The  little  company  of  war-scarred  veterans  in 
the  Home,  perhaps  a  hundred  in  number,  were 
drawn  up  in  line  to  receive  us, — many  of  them 
with  only  one  leg  or  one  arm,  or  on  crutches, 
truly  a  saddening  sight. 

The  formal  acceptance  of  the  building  by  the 
commissioners  took  place  in  the  house ;  then 
the  invited  guests  assembled  near  the  flagstaff. 
Music  was  out  of  the  question  ;  our  nice  little 
plans  for  that  were  sadly  frustrated  by  JEolus 
the  god  of  winds.  I  determined,  nevertheless, 
not  to  let  that  flag  go  up  without  some  music. 
I  took  my  clarinet  to  the  foot  of  the  flagstaff, 
and  when  "  Old  Glory  "  was  hauled  up  I  played 
as  lustily  as  I  could  the  Star  Spangled  Banner. 
At  the  conclusion,  all  present  gave  three 
cheers.  It  was  a  short  ceremony,  and  we  were 
glad  to  get  under  shelter  once  more. 

Six  or  eight  years  ago,  our  club  gave  a  concert 
in  the  Home,  which  is  now  a  truly  wonderful 
institution,  one  of  which  any  nation  may  justly 
be  proud.  Indeed  the  present  Home  is  quite 
a  little  city  in  itself ;  with  a  charming  opera 
house,  which  will  hold  about  one  thousand 


268    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

persons  and  has  its  own  regular  orchestra. 
The  Home  is  often  visited  by  musical  and 
dramatic  companies.  Everything  of  a  nature 
to  cheer  up  the  old  veterans  is  freely  en- 
couraged. 

While  performing  on  the  evening  in  question, 
my  mind  was  busy.  I  could  not  forget  that  I 
was  the  son  of  an  old  soldier,  my  father  having 
served  for  thirty-three  years.  One  of  my 
brothers  also  served  under  the  British  flag  and 
lies  buried  in  India.  My  youngest  brother 
served  all  through  the  Civil  War  in  the  Union 
army,  and  had  a  good  record  as  Captain  in  the 
ist  N.  Y.  Mounted  Rifles.  He  did  not  long 
survive  his  campaigning. 

When  I  looked  over  the  rows  of  white-headed 
men,  I  thought  of  the  peculiar  bond  of  sym- 
pathy which  must  exist  among  them.  Many 
were  seated  alongside  of  the  very  comrades 
who  had  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  them 
in  the  hour  of  supreme  danger,  when  each 
minute  might  bring  the  billet  for  eternal  sepa- 
ration. Amid  the  tumult  of  action,  when  smoke 
and  flame,  shot  and  shell,  make  earth  to  disap- 
pear and  a  hell  to  take  its  place,  the  elbow 
touch  alone  gives  the  signal,  "  Still  alive."  In 
such  moments  a  fellowship  is  formed  which  has 
no  counterpart  among  men's  associations. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    269 

I  took  occasion  between  the  parts  of  the 
concert  to  address  the  audience  and  recall  the 
part  we  had  played,  over  thirty  years  before, 
at  the  dedication  and  flag-raising  :  and  I  noticed 
that  my  remarks  raised  quite  a  buzz  in  various 
parts  of  the  hall.  Afterwards  I  learned  that 
there  was  a  number  of  men  still  in  the 
Home  who  corroborated  my  story.  Indeed 
the  episode  was  one  not  easily  forgotten.  The 
furious  gale,  the  crippled  men  clinging  to  and 
supporting  each  other  when  they  took  off  their 
hats  to  cheer  the  upgoing  flag,  for  which  they 
had  fought,  made  a  scene  worthy  the  pencil  of 
an  artist. 

Many  years  ago  we  gave  a  first  concert  in  a 
certain  small  town  in  Iowa.  In  the  front  seats 
of  the  concert  room  sat  a  good,  hearty-looking 
German  with  his  "  frau "  and  children,  all  of 
whom  had  elated,  interested  faces.  Evidently 
national  pride  was  stirred  in  their  hearts  by  the 
names  of  the  performers ;  and  it  found  vent 
and  expression  at  the  end  of  the  first  piece, 
when  the  German  rose  to  his  feet  and  shouted 
out,  "  Bully  for  the  Dutch  ! " 

Afterwards  we  were  informed  that  this  good 
honest  German  had  been  buzzing  round  town, 
days  in  advance  of  the  concert,  telling  his 


2  ;o    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

American  friends,  "  Now  you  will  something 
hear  like  music."  After  the  concert  we  were 
right  royally  entertained  by  our  enthusiastic 
friend,  who  claimed  that  all  musicians  were 
good  Germans. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THANKFULLY  I  reach  the  last   chapter 
of  "  An  Old  Musician's  Recollections"— 
and  will  end  them  by  relating  a  pleasant  ex- 
perience I  had,  some  eight  or  ten  years  ago, 
on  my  first  visit  to  Berlin. 

Desiring  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  great 
master-violinist,  Joachim,  I  called  at  his  house 
and  sent  up  my  card.  I  was  at  once  received 
and  Mr.  Joachim  gave  me  a  cordial  greet- 
ing, and  put  me  at  ease  by  saying,  "  You  are 
one  of  us.  I  know  all  that  you  and  your  club 
have  been  doing  ;  I  welcome  you  to  Berlin." 
The  speech  was  uttered  in  good  square  Amer- 
ican, and  in  a  warm,  genial  tone  of  voice. 

Having  made  as  long  a  call  as  I  dared  to 
make  on  a  busy  man,  I  rose  to  leave,  saying : 
"Mr.  Joachim,  I  have  never  had  the  pleasure 
of  hearing  you  play,  and  I  very  much  fear  that 
I  never  shall,  for  I  understand  that  you  don't 
like  ocean  travel.  My  only  chance  to  hear  you 
may  be  at  the  present  moment." 

"  I  would  play  with  great  pleasure "  he   re- 
271 


272    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

plied,  "  but  I  have  an  appointment  at  the  High 
School  for  Music ;  perhaps  you  would  like  to 
go  over  therewith  me";  adding,  "Would  you 
not  like  to  hear  our  quartette  play  ?  " 

My  delight  at  the  possibility  of  such  a 
pleasure  must  have  shown  itself  in  my  face, 
as  he  promptly  arranged  a  meeting  for  the 
next  morning ;  and  it  was  a  most  enjoyable, 
musical,  and  social  matinte  bei  Joachim. 
The  four  gentlemen  of  his  quartette  certainly 
did  me  great  honor  when  they  devoted  a 
morning  to  my  pleasure,  simply  because  I 
was  a  brother  artist  from  America.  They 
played  the  F-minor  No.  10  Quartette  by 
Beethoven,  and  a  new  quartette  in  manuscript 
by  D' Albert.  Joachim  played  violin  primo  ; 
D'Ahna,  secundo ;  Wirt,  viola ;  Hausemann, 
violoncello. 

All  four  of  them  were  professors  in  the  High 
School,  Joachim  being  the  general  director  and 
chief  of  the  institution.  The  school  is  mainly 
supported  by  the  government,  and  it  is  chiefly 
for  orchestral  instruments,  though  piano  and 
singing  are  taught.  It  is  almost  exclusively 
attended  by  those  who  are  preparing  for  pro- 
fessional life.  Pupils  are  rigorously  examined, 
and  none  can  enter  without  good  qualifica- 
tions. 


Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician    273 

I  heard  the  pupils  play  symphonies  and 
difficult  concert  overtures, — also  cantatas  with 
solo  singing  and  chorus.  Perhaps  one  fourth 
of  the  "string"  performers  were  young  ladies, 
and  several  were  Americans  whom  I  knew ; 
Miss  Geraldine  Morgan,  now  in  New  York, 
was  at  the  first  desk  of  violins,  and  Miss  Lucy 
Campbell  played  the  violoncello.  There  was 
also  a  number  of  young  men  from  America. 
Among  them  was  a  modest  young  man  from 
Louisville,  just  entered.  He  told  me  he  had 
been  incited  to  study  the  violin  by  hearing  our 
Quintette  Club,  and  hoped  it  would  be  his 
good  fortune  some  day  to  play  with  us.  Some 
seasons  ago,  I  needed  a  first  violin  for  the 
Club,  and  the  modest  boy,  who  had  developed 
into  a  brilliant  player,  became  for  a  season  my 
concert-master, — Mr.  Sol  Marcosson. 

Now,  after  fifty-four  years  of  service, — forty- 
nine  of  them  with  the  Quintette  Club, — rarely 
free  from  care  and  responsibility, — I  think  I 
can  honestly  say  that  I  have  tried  to  do  my 
share  of  musical  duty.  There  have  been  num- 
berless times  when  much  fortitude  was  needed 
to  continue  working,  for  seasons  were  bad  and 
incomes  small.  But  there  was  a  good  spirit 
which  said  to  me,  "  Continue  to  do  the  work 


274    Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician 

for  which  you  are  best  fitted,  and  your  reward 
will  come  later." 

I  have  often  felt  a  great  satisfaction  welling 
up  within  me — a  something  which  caused  me  to 
feel  perfectly  happy — when  the  playing  of  the 
Club  was  quite  "  up  to  the  mark  "  ;  that  was  for 
me  a  wonderfully  sustaining  power. 

I  began  life  in  America  when  the  art  of 
music  was  about  in  accordance  with  my  age, — 
that  of  a  youth.  The  art  has  grown,  will  con- 
tinue to  grow,  and  will  become  more  and  more 
of  a  delight  to  all  our  people.  There  will  be 
no  decadence. 

To  the  old  friends  who  have  followed  me  in 
this  retrospection,  I  venture  to  express  the 
hope  that  I  may  have  a  place  in  their  good 
memory  to  the  end  of  their  days.  For  my 
unknown  readers, — perhaps  a  very  small  con- 
tingent,— I  trust  that  they  will  find  something 
of  interest  or  value  to  repay  them  for  the  time 
given  to  "  An  Old  Musician's  Recollections." 

THOMAS  RYAN. 

FINIS 


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